Pan. Where should I lose my tongue? Pan. In thy tail? Laun. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service? The tide!-Why, man, if the river were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the wind were down, I could drive the boat with my sighs. Pan. Come, come away, man; I was sent to call thee. Laun. Sir, call me what thou darest. Pan. Wilt thou go? Laun. Well, I will go. SCENE IV. [Exeunt. MILAN. An Apartment in the DUKE's Palace. Enter VALENTINE, SILVIA, THURIO, and SPEED. Sil. Servant Val. Mistress? Speed. Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you. Val. Ay, boy, it's for love. Speed. Not of you. Val. Of my mistress then. Speed. "Twere good, you knocked him. Sil. Servant, you are sad. Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so. Thu. Seem you that you are not? Val. Haply, I do. Thu. So do counterfeits. Val. So do you. Thu. What seem I, that I am not? Val. Wise. Thu. What instance of the contrary? Val. Your folly. Thu. And how quote you my folly? Val. quote it in your jerkin. Thu. My jerkin is a doublet. Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly. Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio? do you change colour? Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood, than live in your air. Val. You have said, sir. Thu. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time. Val. I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin. Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off. Val. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver. Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire: Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks, and spends what he borrows, kindly in your company. Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt. Val. I know it well, sir: you have an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other treasure to give your followers; for it appears by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words. Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more; here comes my father. Enter DUKE. Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset. Val. My lord, I will be thankful To any happy messenger from thence. Duke. Know you Don Antonio, your countryman? Val. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman To be of worth, and worthy estimation, And not without desert so well reputed. Duke. Hath he not a son? Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well deserves The honour and regard of such a father. Duke. You know him well? Val. I knew him as myself; for from our infancy We have convers'd, and spent our hours together: And though myself have been an idle truant, Omitting the sweet benefit of time, To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection; Yet hath Sir Proteus, for that's his name, As meet to be an emperor's counsellor. Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he. [Exit Duke. Val. This is the gentleman, I told your ladyship, Had come along with me, but that his mistress Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks. Sil. Belike, that now she hath enfranchis'd them Upon some other pawn for fealty. Val. Nay, sure, I think, she holds them prisoners still. Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind, How could he see his way to seek out you? Val. Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. Thu. They say, that love hath not an eye at all. Val. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself; Upon a homely object love can wink. Enter PROTeus. Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the gentle man. [you, Val. Welcome, dear Proteus!-Mistress, I beseech Confirm his welcome with some special favour. Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither, If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from. Val. Mistress, it is: sweet lady, entertain him To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship. Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a servant. Pro. Not so, sweet lady; but too mean a servant To have a look of such a worthy mistress. Val. Leave off discourse of disability:-Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant. Pro. My duty will I boast of, nothing else. Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed; Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress. Pro. I'll die on him that says so, but yourself. Sil. That you are welcome? Pro. No! that you are worthless. Enter Servant. Ser. Madam, my lord your father would speak with you. [Exit Servant. Come, Sir Thurio, Go with me:-Once more, new servant, welcome: [commended. [Exeunt Silvia, Thurio, and Speed. I know, you joy not in a love-discourse. Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now: Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow. There is no woe to his correction, Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth! Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye: Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint? Pro. I will not flatter her. Val. O, flatter me; for love delights in praises. Pro. When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills; And I must minister the like to you. Val. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine, Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth. Sweet, except not any; Val. Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine own? Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this? Val. Pardon me, Proteus: all I can, is nothing To her, whose worth makes other worthies nothing; She is alone. Pro. Then let her alone. Val. Not of the world: why, man, she is mine own; And I as rich in having such a jewel, As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, |