ers still.

seech you,

with you.

Val. Give him leave, madam : he is a kind of Val. Nay, sure, I think, she holds them prisoncameleon.

Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being, blood, than live in your air.

blind, Val. You have said, sir.

How could he see his way to seek out you? Thu, Ay, sir, and done too, for this time.

Val. Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. Val. I know it well, sir : you always end ere you Thu. They say, that love hath not an eye at all. begin.

Val. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself: Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and Upon a homely object love can wink. quickly shot off.

Enter PROTEUS.
Val. 'Tis indeed, madam ; we thank the giver.
Sl. Who is that, servant ?

Sil. Have done, have done. Here comes the Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire. gentleman.

(Exit Thurio. Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship’s Val. Welcome, dear Proteus !-Mistress, I belooks, and spends what he borrows kindly in your company.

Confirm his welcome with some special favour. Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome bither, I shall make your wit bankrupt.

If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from. Val. I know it well, sir: you have an exchequer Val. Mistress, it is. Sweet lady, entertain him of words, and, I think, no other treasure to give | To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship. your followers; for it appears by their bare liveries, Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a servant. what they live by your bare words.

Pro. Not so, sweet lady; but too mean a servant Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more.

Here comes

To have a look of such a worthy mistress. any father.

Val. Leave off discourse of disability:

Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant.
Enter the DUKE.

Pro. My duty will I boast of, nothing else.
Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset. Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed.
Sir Valentine, your father's in good health: Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress.
What say you to a letter from your friends

Pro. I'll die on him that says so, but yourself. Of mucli good news?

Sil. That you are welcome?
Val.
My lord, I will be thankful Pro.

That you are worthless. To any happy messenger from thence.

Enter Thurio. Duke. Know you Don Antonio, your countryman!

Thu. Madam, my lord, your father, would speak Val. Ay, my good lord; I know the gentleman To be of worth, and worthy estimation,

Sil. I wait upon his pleasure: come, sir Thurio, And not without desert so well reputed.

Go with me.-Once more, new servant, welcome : Duke. Hath he not a son ?

I'll leave you to confer of home-affairs ; Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well deserves When you have done, we look to hear from you. The honour and regard of such a father.

Pro. We'll both attend upon your ladyship. Duke. You know him well?

[Exeunt Silvia, THURIO, and SPEED Val. I knew him, as myself; for from our infancy Val. Now, tell me, low do all from whence you We have conversid, and spent our hours together:

came? And though myself have been an idle truant,

Pro. Your friends are well, and have them Omitting the sweet benefit of time

much commended. To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection,

Val. And how do yours ? Yet hath sir Proteus, for that's his name,

Pro.

I left them all in health. Made use and fair advantage of his days:

Val. How does your lady, and how thrives your His years are young, but his experience old;

love? His head unmellow'd, but his judgment ripe;

Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you : And, in a word, (for far behind his worth

I know, you joy not in a love-discourse. Come all the praises that I now bestow,)

Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now: He is complete in feature, and in mind,

I have done penance for contemning love ; With all good grace to grace a gentleman.

Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me Duke. Beshrew me, sir, but, if he make this good, With bitter fasts, with penitential groans, He is as worthy for an empress' love,

With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs; As meet to be an emperor's counsellor.

For, in revenge of my contempt of love, Well, sir, this gentleman is come to me

Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes, With commendation from great potentates ;

And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow. And here he means to spend his time a-while. O, gentle Proteus ! love's a mighty lord, I think, 'tis no unwelcome news to you.

And hath so humbled me, as, I confess, Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he. There is no woe to his correction,

Duke. Welcome him, then, according to his worth. Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth. Silvia, I speak to you; and you, sir Thurio : Now, no discourse, except it be of love ; For Valentine, I need not 'cite him to it.

Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep, I'll send him hither to you presently. (Exit DUKE. Upon the very naked name of love.

Val. This is the gentleman, I told your ladyship, Pro. Enough ; I read your fortune in your eye. Had come along with me, but that his mistress Was this the idol that you worship so ? Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks.

Val. Even she ; and is she not a heavenly saint ? SI. Belike, that now she hath enfranchis'd them, Pro. No, but she's an earthly paragon. ('pon some other pawn for fealty.

Val. Call her divine.

SCENE VI.-The Same. An Apartment in the Thou would'st as soon go kindle fire with snow, Palace.

As seek to quench the fire of love with words.

Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire, Enter PROTEUS.

But qualify the fire's extreme rage, Pro. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn;

Jul. The more thou damm'st it up, the more it To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn;

burns. And even that power, which gave me first my The current, that with gentle murmur glides, oath,

Thou know'st, being stopp’d, impatiently doth rage; Provokes me to this threefold perjury :

But, when his fair course is not hindered, Love bad me swear, and love bids me forswear. He makes sweet music with the enarneld stones, O sweet-suggesting love! if thou hast sinn'd, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it.

He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ; At first I did adore a twinkling star,

And so by many winding nooks he strays But now I worship a celestial sun.

With willing sport to the wild ocean. Cnheedful vows may heedfully be broken;

Then, let me go, and hinder not my course. And he wants wit, that wants resolved will

I'll be as patient as a gentle stream, To learn his wit t exchange the bad for better. And make a pastime of each weary step, Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad, Till the last step have brought me to my love ; Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd And there I'll rest, as, after much turmoil, With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths.

A blessed soul doth in Elysium. I cannot leave to love, and yet I do ;

Luc. But in what habit will you go along? But there I leave to love, where I should love. Jul. Not like a woman, for I would prevent Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose :

The loose encounters of lascivious men. If I keep them, I needs must lose myself;

Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds If I lose them, thus find I, by their loss,

As may beseem some well-reputed page. For Valentine, myself; for Julia, Silvia.

Luc. Why, then your ladyship must cut your I to myself am dearer than a friend,

hair. For love is still most precious in itself;

Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in silken strings, And Silvia, (witness heaven that made her air!) With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots: Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.

To be fantastic may become a youth I will forget that Julia is alive,

Of greater time than I shall show to be. Remembering that my love to her is dead;

Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,

breeches ? Aiming at Silvia, as a sweeter friend.

Jul. That fits as well, as—“Tell me, good my I cannot now prove constant to myself

lord, Without some treachery used to Valentine. What compass will you wear your farthingale ?": This night, he ineaneth with a corded ladder Why, even what fashion thou best lik’st, Lucetta. To climb celestial Silvia's chamber window;

Luc. You must needs have them with a codpiece, Myself in counsel, his competitor.

madam. Now, presently I'll give her father notice

Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favoured. Of their disguising, and pretended flight;

Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not worth a Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentine,

pin, For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter : Unless you have a codpiece to stick pins on. But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross

Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have By some sly trick blunt Thurio's dull proceeding.

What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly. Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift, But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift! [E.rit. For undertaking so unstaid a journey?

I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd. SCENE VII.–Verona. A Room in Julia's House. Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and go Enter Julia, and LUCETTA.

Jul. Nay, that I will not. Jul. Coupsel, Lucetta ; gentle girl, assist me:

Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go. And, e'en in kind love, I do conjure thee,

If Proteus like your journey, when you come, Who art the table wherein all my thoughts

No matter who's displeas’d, when you are gone. Are visibly character'd and engravid,

I fear me, he will scarce be pleas'd withal. To lesson me; and tell me some good mean,

Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear. How, with my honour, I may undertake

A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
A journey to my loving Proteus.

And instances of infinite of love,
Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long. Warrant me welcome to my Proteus.
Jul. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary

Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men. To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps,

Jul. Base men, that use them to so base effect; Much less sball she, that hath love's wings to fly ; But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth : And when the flight is made to one so dear,

His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles ; Of such divine perfection, as sir Proteus.

His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate ; Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return. His tears, pure messengers sent from his heart; Jul. O! know'st thou not, his looks are my soul's | His heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth. food ?

Luc. Pray heaven, he prove so, when you come Pity the dearth that I have pined in,

to him! By longing for that food so long a time.

Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not ibat Didst thou but know the inly touch of love,

wrong,

pot.

[Reads.

Val. What would your grace have me to do in And here an engine fit for my proceeding ! this ?

l'll be so bold to break the seal for once. Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan here, Whom I affect; but she is rice, and coy,

· My thoughts do harbour with

my

Silvia nightly;

And slaves they are to me, that send them flying: And nought esteems my aged eloquence :

0! could their master come and go as lig!tly, Now, therefore, would I have thee to my tutor, (For long agone I have forgot to court;

Himself would lodge, where senseless theyarelying. Besides, the fashion of the time is chang'd,)

My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them;

While I, their king, that thither them importune, How, and which way, I may bestow myself,

Do curse the To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.

grace that with such grace hath bless'd

them, Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not

Because myself do want my servants' fortune. words. Dunib jewels often, in their silent kind,

I curse myself, for they are sent by me, More than quick words do move a woman's mind.

That they should harbour where their lord should be." Duke. But she did scorn a present that I sent

What's here? her.

Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee :" l'al. A woman sometimes scorns what best con 'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.tents her.

Why, Phaëton, (for thou art Merops' son,) Send her another; never give her 'o'er,

Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car, For scorn at first makes after-love the more. And with thy daring folly burn the world? If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,

Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee? But rather to beget more love in you :

Go, base intruder; over-weening slave : If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone,

Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates, For why, the fools are mad, if left alone.

And think my patience, more than thy desert, Take no repulse, whatever she doth say ;

Is privilege for thy departure hence. For. “ get you gone,” she doth not mean, "away." Thank me for this, more than for all the favours Flatter, and praise, commend, extol their graces;

Which, all too much, I have bestow'd on thee: Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' But if thou linger in my territories faces.

Longer than swiftest expedition That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man,

Will give thee time to leave our royal court, If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

By heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the love Duke. But she I mean is promis'd by her friends I ever bore my daughter, or thyself. Unto a youthful gentleman of worth,

Begone : I will not hear thy vain excuse; And kept severely from resort of men,

But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence. That no man hath access by day to her.

(Exit Duke. Val. Wh;, then I would resort to her by night. Val. And why not death, rather than living tor Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock’d, and keys kept

ment? safe,

To die is to be banish'd from myself, That no man hath recourse to her by night.

And Silvia is myself : banish'd from her, Vai. What lets, but one may enter at her win Is self from self; a deadly banishment. dow !

What light is light, if Silvia be rot seen ?
Duke. Her chamber is aloft far from the ground, What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by ?
And built so shelving, that one cannot climb it Unless it be, to think that she is by,
Without apparent hazard of his life.

And feed upon the shadow of perfection.
Val. Why then, a ladder quaintly made of cords, Except I be by Silvia in the night,
To cast up, with a pair of anchoring hooks,

There is no music in the nightingale ;
Would serve to scale another Hero's tower, Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
So bold Leander would adventure it.

There is no day for me to look upon.
Duke. Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood, She is my essence; and I leave to be,
Advise me where I may have such a ladder. If I be not by her fair influence
Val. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell me

Foster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive.
that.

I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom :
Duke. This very night; for love is like a child, Tarry I here, I but attend on death ;
That longs for every thing that he can come by. But, fly I hence, I fly away from life.

Val. By seven o'clock I'll get you such a ladder.
Duke. But hark thee; I will go to her alone.

Enter Proteus, and LAUNCE.
How shall I best convey the ladder thither?

Pro. Run, boy ; run, run, and seek him out. Val. It will be light, my lord, that you may Launce. So-ho! so-ho! bear it

Pro. What seest thou ? Under a cloak that is of any length.

Launce. Him we go to find: there's not a hair Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the on's head, but 'tis a Valentine. turn?

Pro. Valentine ? Val. Ay, my good lord.

Val. No. Duke.

Then, let me see thy cloak : Pro. Who then ? his spirit ? I'll get me one of such another length.

l'al. Neither. Val. Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my

Pro. What then?
Jord.

Val. Nothing.
Duke. How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak? Launce. Can nothing speak ? master, shall 1
I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.-

strike? What letter is this same? What's here!-" To Pro. Whom wouidst thou strike ? Silvia ?"

Launce. Nothing.