For which the youthful lover now is gone,
And this way comes he with it presently;
Where, if it please you, you may intercept him.
But, good my lord, do it so cunningly,
That my discovery be not aimed at;
For love of you, not hate unto my friend,
Hath made me publisher of this pretence.

Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never know
That I had any light from thee of this.
Pro. Adieu, my lord; Sir Valentine is coming. go

[Exit Pro.

Enter VALENTINE.

Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast ?
& Val. Please it your grace, there is a messenger
That stays to bear my letters to my friends,
And I am going to deliver them.

Duke. Be they of much import?

Val. The tenor of them doth but signify My health, and happy being at your court.

Duke. Nay, then no matter ; stay with me a while; I am to break with thee of some affairs, That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret. 'Tis not unknown to thee, that I have sought 61 To match my friend, Sir Thurio, to my daughter. Val. I know it well, my lord; and, sure, the

match Were rich and honourable ; besides, the gentleman

Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter :

Cannot

Cannot your grace win her to fancy him?
Duke. No, trust me ; she is peevish, sullen, fro.

ward,
Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty;
Neither regarding that she is my child,

70
Nor fearing me as if I were her father :
And, may I say to thee, this pride of her's,
Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her;
And, where I thought the remnant of mine age
Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty,
I now am full resolv'd to take a wife,
And turn her out to who will take her'in :
Then let her beauty be her wedding-dower ;
For me, and my possessions, she esteems not.

Val. What would your grace have me to do in this

Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan, here, 81
Whom I affect; but she is nice, and coy,
And nought esteems my aged eloquence :
Now, therefore, would I have thee to my tutor
(For long agone I have forgot to court ;
Besides, the fashion of the time is chang'd),
How, and which way, I may bestow myself,
To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.

Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words ;
Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind,

90 More than quick words, do inove a woman's mind.

Duke. But she did scorn a present that I sent her.
Val. A woman scorns sometimes what best contents

her :

Send her another; never give her o'er ;

Eiij

For

100

For scorn at first makes after-love the more,
If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
But rather to beget more love in you:
If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone;
For why, the fools are mad if left alone.
Take no repulse, whatever she doth say;
For, get you gore, she doth not mean, away:
Flatter, and praise, commend, extol their graces;
Though ne'er so black, say, they have angels' faces.
That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man,
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

Duke. But she I mean, is promis'd by her friends
Unto a youthful gentleman of worth ;
And kept severely from resort of men,
That no man hath access by day to her.

Val. Why then I would resort to her by night. 110 Duke, Ay, but the doors be lock'd, and keys kept

safe, That no man hath recourse to her by night.

Val. What lets, but one may enter at her window)

Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground; And built so shelving, that one cannot climb it Without apparent hazard of his life.

Val. Why, then a ladder, quaintly made of cords, To cast up, with a pair of anchoring hooks, Would serve to scale another Hero's tower, So bold Leander would adventure it.

Duke. Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood, Advise me where I may have such a ladder.

Pal.

120

130

• Val. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell me

that. Duke. This very night; for love is like a child, That longs for every thing that he can come by.

Val. By seven o'clock I'll get you such a ladder. :

Duke. But hark thee; I will go to her alone ;
How shall I best convey the ladder thither?
Val. It will be light, my lord, that you may

bear it Under a cloak, that is of any length.

Duke. . A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn?
Val. Ay, my good lord.

Duke. Then let me see thy cloak;
I'll get me one of such another length.

Val. Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord:

Duke. How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak ? -
I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.
What letter is this same? what's here? -

[TO SILVIÀ And here an engine fit for my proceeding! I'll be so bold to break the seal for once,

140

[Duke reads. My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly:

And slaves they are to me, that send them flying: Oh, could their master come and go as lightly,

Himself would lodge, where senseless they are lying.' My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them;

While I, their king, that thither them importune, Do curse the

grace that with such grace hath bless'd them, Because myself do want my servant's fortune : I curse myself, for they are sent by me, That they should harbour where their lord would be.

150 What's

What's here ? Silvia, this night will I enfranchise thee: 'Tis so

and here's the ladder for the purpose. Why, Phaëton (for thou art Merops' son), Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car, And with thy daring folly burn the world? Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee? Go, base intruder! over-weening slave! Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates; And think, my patience, more than thy desert, Is privilege for thy departure hence :

160 Thank me for this, more than for all the favours, Which, all too much, I have bestow'd on thee. But if thou linger in my territories, Longer than swiftest expedition Will give thee time to leave our royal court, By heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the love I ever bore my daughter, or thyself. Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excuse, But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence.

[Exit. Val. And why not death, rather than living torment?

170 To die, is to be þanish'd from myself; And Silvia is myself : banish'd from her, Is self from self; a deadly banishment ! What light is light, if Silvia be not seen? What joy is jay, if Silvia be not by Unless it be, to think that she is by, And feed upon the shadow of perfection. Except I be by Silvia in the night,

There