Speed. Why, sir, I know her not. Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet know'st her not? Speed. Is she not hard favored, sir? Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) well favored. Val. I mean, that her beauty is exquisite, but her favor infinite. Speed. That's because the one is painted, and the other out of all count. Val. How painted? and how out of count? Speed. Marry, sir, so painted, to make her fair, that no man counts of her beauty. Val. How esteemest thou me! I account of her beauty. Sil. Perchance you think too much of so much pains? Val. No, madam; so it stead you, I will write, Please you command, a thousand times as much: And yet, Sil. A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel; And yet I will not name it :-and yet I care not; And yet take this again;—and yet I thank you; Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more. Speed. And yet you will; and yet another yet. [Aside. What means your ladyship? do you not like it? Val. Sil. Yes, yes; the lines are very quaintly writ, But since unwillingly, take them again; Nay, take them. Val. Madam, they are for you. Sil. Ay, ay; you writ them, sir, at my request: Speed. You never saw her since she was de- But I will none of them; they are for you: formed. Val. How long hath she been deformed? Speed. Ever since you loved her. Val. I have loved her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful. Speed. If you love her, you cannot see her. Speed. Because love is blind. O, that you had mine eyes; or your own had the lights they were wont to have, when you chid at sir Proteus for going ungartered. Val. What should I see then? Speed. Your own present folly, and her passing deformity for he, being in love, could not see to garter his hose; and you, being in love, cannot see to put on your hose. Val. Belike, boy, then you are in love; for last morning you could not see to wipe my shoes. Speed. True, sir; I was in love with my bed; I thank you, you swinged me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you for yours. Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her. Speed. I would you were set; so, your affection would cease. Val. Last night she enjoined me to write some lines to one she loves. I would have had them writ more movingly. Val. If it please me, madam! what then? My master sues to her; and she hath taught her suitor, He being her pupil, to become her tutor. O excellent device! was there ever heard a better? That my master, being scribe, to himself should write the letter? Val. How now, sir? what are you reasoning with yourself? Speed. Nay, I was rhyming; 'tis you that have the reason. Val. To do what? Speed. To be a spokesman from madam Silvia. Val. To whom? Speed. To yourself: why, she woos you by a figure? Val. What figure? Speed. By a letter, I should say. Val. Why, she hath not writ to me. Speed. What need she, when she hath made you write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest? Val. No, believe me. Speed. No believing you, indeed, sir: But did you perceive her earnest ? Val. She gave me none, except an angry word. Val. I would it were no worse. For often you have writ to her; and she, in modesty, Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply; Or fearing else some messenger, that might her mind discover, Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover. All this I speak in print; for in print I found it. Why muse you, sir? 'tis dinner-time. Val. I have dined. Speed. Ay, but hearken, sir: though the came leon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am C nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat: O, be not like your mistress; be moved, be moved. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Verona. A room in Julia's House. Enter PROTEUS and JULIA. Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia. Jul. I must, where is no remedy. Pro. When possibly I can, I will return. Jul. If you turn not, you will return the sooner: Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake. [Giving a ring. Pro. Why then we'll make exchange; here take you this. Jul. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss. Pro. Here is my hand for my true constancy; And when that hour o'erslips me in the day, Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake, The next ensuing hour some foul micchance Torment me for my love's forgetfulness! My father stays my coming; answer not; The tide is now: nay, not the tide of tears; That tide will stay me longer than I should: [Exit JULIA. Pant. Sir Proteus, you are staid for. Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb. Enter PANTHINO. Pant. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy master is shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? why weepest thou, man? Away, ass; you will lose the tide, if you tarry any longer. Laun. It is no matter if the ty'd were lost: for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever man ty'd. Pant. What's the unkindest tide? Laun. Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my dog. Pant. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lose the flood; and, in losing the flood, lose thy voyage; and, in losing thy voyage, lose thy master; and, in losing thy master, lose thy service; and in losing thy service, Why dost thou stop my mouth! Laun. For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue. Pant. 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. Pant. Come, come away, man; I was sent to call thee. Laun. Sir, call me what thou darest. Laun. Well, I will go. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Milan. An Apartment in the Duke's Palace. Enter VALENTINE, SILVIA, THURIO, and SPEED. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-The same. A Street. Enter LAUNCE, leading a dog. Laun. Nay, it will be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with sir Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think, Crab my dog be the sourest-natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted tur shed one tear; he is a stone, a very febbletone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have wept to have seen our parting; wby, my grandam having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner of it: This shoe is my father;-no this left shoe is my father;-no, no, this left shoc is my mother;-nay, that cannot be so neither ;yes, it is so, it is so; it hath the worser sole; This shoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father; A vengeance on't! there 'tis: now, sir, this staff is my sister; for, look you, she is as white as a lily, and as small as a wand; this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog :-no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog;-0, the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so. Now come I to my father; Father, your blessing; now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping; now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on: now come I to my mother, (O, that she could speak now!) like a wood woman;—well, I kiss her;-why there 'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down; now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes; now. the dog all this while sheds not a tear, nor speaks a word; but see how I lay the dust with my tears. 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 knock'd him. Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so. Thu. So do counterfeits. Val. So do you. Thu. What seem I that I am not? Thu. What instance of the contrary? Thu. And how quote you my folly? Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly. Sil. What, angry, sir Thurio? do you change color? Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of cameleon. Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood, than live in your air. Val. You have said, sir. 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 honor and regard of such a father. Duke. You know him well? Val. I knew him as myself; for from our infancy We have conversed 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; I'll send him hither to you presently. [Exit DUKE. 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. Val. Welcome, dear Proteus!-Mistress, I beseech you, Confirm his welcome with some special favor. No; that you are worthless. Ser. Madam, my lord your father would speak with you. Sil. I'll wait upon his pleasure. [Exit Servant. Go with me:-Once more, new servant, welcome : [Exeunt SILVIA, THURIO, and SPEED. Val. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came? Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much commended. Val. And how do yours? Pro. I left them all in health. Val. How does your lady? and how thrives your love? Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you; 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 I have done penance for contemning love; With bitter fasts, with penitential groans, With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs; For, in revenge of my contempt of love, Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes, And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow. O, gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord; Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth! Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep, Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye: Pro. I will not flatter her. Val. O, flatter me; for love delights in praises. And I must minister the like to you. Pro. When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills; Val. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine, Yet let her be a principality, Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth. Sweet, except not any; Sil Have done, have done; here comes the Except thou wilt except against my love. gentleman. •Incite. Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine own? Val. And I will help thee to prefer her too: She shall be dignified with this high honor,— To bear my lady's train; lest the base earth 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. Vul. Not for the world: why, man, she is mine own; And I as rich in having such a jewel, Pro. I will. [Exit VAL. Even as one heat another heat expels, SCENE V.-The same. A Street. Enter SPEED and LAUNCE. [Exit. Speed. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to Milan. Laun. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth; for I am not welcome. I reckon this always-that a man is never undone, till he be hanged; nor never welcome to a place, till some certain shot be paid, and the hostess say welcome. Speed. Come on, you mad-cap, I'll to the ale 1 On further knowledge. Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match? Laun. Ask my dog: if he say, ay, it will; if he say, no, it will; if he shake his tail, and say nothing, it will. Speed. The conclusion is then, that it will. Laun. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me, but by a parable. Speed. 'Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how say'st thou, that my master has become a notable lover? Laun. I never knew him otherwise. Speed. Than how? Laun. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be. Pro. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn; To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn; To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn; And even that power, which gave me first my oath, Provokes me to this threefold perjury. Love bade me swear, and love bids me forswear: O sweet-suggesting' love, if thou hast sinn'd, Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it. At first I did adore a twinkling star, But now I worship a celestial sun. Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken; And he wants wit, that wants resolved will Tempting. With willing sport to the wild ocean. To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better.-| And so by many winding nooks he strays, But there I leave to love, where I should love. If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; And Silvia, witness heaven, that made her fair! I will forget that Julia is alive, I cannot now prove constant to myself, SCENE VII.-Verona. A room in Julia's House. Enter JULIA and LUCETTA. Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me! And, even in kind love, I do conjure thee,— Who art the table wherein all my thoughts Are visibly charácter'd and engraved,— To lesson me; and tell me some good mean, How, with my honor, I may undertake A journey to my loving Proteus. Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long. Jul. A true devoted pilgrim is not weary To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps: Much less shall she, that hath love's wings to fly: And when the flight is made to one so dear, Of such divine perfection, as sir Proteus. Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return. Jul. O, know'st thou not, his looks are my soul's food? Pity the dearth that I have pined in, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. I'll be as patient as a gentle stream, Luc. But in what habit will you go along? Luc. Why, then your ladyship must cut your hair. Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in silken strings, With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots: To be fantastic may become a youth Of greater time than I shall show to be. Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your breeches? Jul. That fits as well, as lord, 'tell me, good my What compass will you wear your farthingale?' Why, even that fashion thou best lik'st Lucetta. Luc. You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam. Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favor'd. Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin, Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on. Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly: But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me, For undertaking so unstaid a journey? I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd. Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and go not. Jul. Nay, that I will not. Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go. If Proteus like your journey, when you come, No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone: I fear me, he will scarce be pleas'd withal. Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear: A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears, And instances as infinite of love, Warrant me welcome to my Proteus. Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men. Jul. Base men that use them to so base effect! But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth: His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles; His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate; His tears pure messengers sent from his heart; His heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth. Luc. Pray heaven, he prove so, when you come to him! Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that wrong, To bear a hard opinion of his truth: [Exeunt. |