« ZurückWeiter »
Duke of Milan, Father to Silvia.
Julia, a Lady of Verona, beloved by Proteus.
SCENE, sometimes in Verona; sometimes in Milan;
and on the Frontiers of Mantua.
SCENE I. An open Place in VERONA.
Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS. Val. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus ; Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits : Wer't not, affection chains thy tender days. To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love, I rather would entreat thy company, To see the wonders of the world abroad, Than living dully sluggardiz’d at home, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness. But, since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein, Even as I would, when I to love begin.
Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu! Think on thy Proteus, when thou, haply, seest Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel: Wish me partaker in thy happiness, When thou dost meet good hap; and, in thy danger, If ever danger do environ thee,
Commend thy grievanc
ance to my holy prayers, For I will be thy bead's-man, Valentine.
Val. And on a love-book pray for my success.
Val. That's on some shallow story of deep love,
Pro. That's a deep story of a deeper love, For he was more than over shoes in love.
Val. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love, And yet you never swam the Hellespont. Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots.
al. No, I'll not, for it boots thee not. Pro.
To be In love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks, With heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth, With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights : If haply won, perhaps, a hapless gain; If lost, why then a grievous labour won; However, but a folly bought with wit, Or else a wit by folly vanquished.
Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool.
Val. Love is your master, for he masters you :
Pro. Yet writers say, As in the sweetest bud
Val. Aud writers say, As the most forward bud
Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.
Val. Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave.
Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan!
Enter SPEED. Speed. Sir Proteus, save you: saw you my master? Pro. But now he parted hence, to embark for Milan.
Speed. Twenty to one then, he is shipp'd already; And I have play'd the sheep, in losing him.
Pro. Indeed a sheep doth very often stray, An if the shepherd be awhile away. Speed. You conclude that my master is a shepherd
then, and I a sheep? Pro. I do.
[wake or sleep. Speed. Why then my horns are his horns, whether I Pro. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep. Speed. This proves me still a sheep. Pro. True; and thy master a shepherd. Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance. Pro. It shall go hard, but I'll prove it by another.
Speed. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks not me: therefore, I am no sheep.
Pro. The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd, the shepherd for food follows not the sheep; thou for wages followest master, thy master for wages follows not thee: therefore, thou art a sheep.