Advise me where I may have such a ladder. 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. I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.- [Reads. My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly; Himself would lodge, where senseless they are lying. I curse myself, for they are sent by me, That they should harbour where their lord should be. What's here ? Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee: 'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.→→→ Thank me for this, more than for all the favours, [3] Thou art Phaeton in thy rashness, but without his pretensions: thou art not The son of a divinity, but a terra filius, a low-born wretch; Merops is thy true far ther, with whom Phaeton was falsely reproached. JOHNS. Which, all too much, I have bestow'd on thee. Will give thee time to leave our royal court, Begone, I will not hear thy vain excuse, But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence. [Exit DUKE Val. And why not death, rather than living torment? To die, is to be banish'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 joy, 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 is no music in the nightingale ; Unless I look on Silvia in the day, There is no day for me to look upon : She is my essence; and I leave to be, If I be not by her fair influence Foster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive. I fly not death, to fly is deadly doom: Tarry I here, I but attend on death; But, fly I hence, I fly away from life. Enter PROTEUS and LAUnce. Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out. Pro. What seest thou? Laun. Him we go to find: there's not a hair on's head, but 'tis a Valentine. Pro. Valentine? Val. No. Pro. Who then? his spirit? Val. Neither. Pro. What then? Val. Nothing. Laun. Can nothing speak! master, shall I strike? Pro. Whom wouldst thou strike? Laun. Nothing. Pro. Villain, forbear. Laun. Why, sir, I'll strike nothing: I pray you, Pro. Then in dumb silence will I bury mine, Pro. No, Valentine. Val. No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia !Hath she forsworn me? Pro. No, Valentine. Val. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me !— What is your news? Laun. Sir, there's a proclamation that you are vanish'd. Pro. That thou art banish'd, O, that's the news; From hence, from Silvia, and from me thy friend. Val. O, I have fed upon this woe already, And now excess of it will make me surfeit. Doth Silvia know that I am banish'd? Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom, But neither bended knees, pure hands held up, But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die. Val. No more; unless the next word that thou speak'st Have some malignant power upon my life : If so, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear, As ending anthem of my endless dolour. Pro. Čease to lament for that thou canst not help, And study help for that which thou lament'st. Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that, Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy, Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north-gate. Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out.-Come, Valentine. Val. O my dear Silvia! hapless Valentine! [Exeunt VAL. and PRO. Laun. I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to think, my master is a kind of knave: but that's all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now, that knows me to be in love: yet I am in love; but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me ; nor who 'tis I love, and yet 'tis a woman: but that woman, I will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milk-maid: yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips: yet 'tis a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages. She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel,-which is much in a bare Christian. Here is the cat-log [Pulling out a paper] of her conditions. Imprimis, She can fetch and carry. Why, a horse can do no more; nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore, is she better than a jade. Item, She can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands. Enter SPEED. Speed. How now, signior Launce ? what news with your mastership Laun. With my master's ship? why, it is at sea. [4] Trifling as the remark may appear, before the meaning of this address of letters to the bosom of a mistress can be understood, it should be known that women anciently had a pocket in the fore part of their stays, in which they not only carried love-letters and love-tokens, but even their money and materials for needle work. In many parts of England the rustic damsels still observe the same practice; and a very old lady informs me that she remembers, when it was the fashion to wear prominent stays, it was no less the custom for stratagem and gallantry to drop its literary favours within the front of them. STEEVENS. [5] I see how Valentine suffers for telling his love-secrets, therefore I will keep mine close. JOHNSON. Speed. Well, your old vice still; mistake the word: Laun. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st. Laun. Why, as black as ink. Laun. Fye on thee, jolt-head; thou canst not read. Laun. I will try thee: Tell me this: Who begot thee? Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather. Laun. O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy grandmother: this proves, that thou canst not read. Speed. Come, fool, come: try me in thy paper. Laun. There; and St. Nicholas be thy speed! Speed. Imprimis, She can milk. Laun. Ay, that she can. Speed. Item, She brews good ale. Laun. And thereof comes the proverb,-Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale. Speed. Item, She can sew. Laun. That's as much as to Can she so say, Speed. Item, She can knit. ? Laun. What need a man care for a stock with a wench,, when she can knit him a stock? Speed. Item, She can wash and scour. Laun. A special virtue; for then she need not be wash. ed and scoured. Speed. Item, She can spin. Laun. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living. Speed. Item, She hath many nameless virtues. Laun. That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have no names. Speed. Here follow her vices. Laun. Close at the heels of her virtues. Speed. Item, She is not to be kissed fasting, in respect of her breath. Laun. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast: Read on. [6] St. Nicholas presided over scholars, who were therefore called St. Nicholas's clerks. Hence, by a quibble between Nicholas and Old Nick, highwaymen, in the First Part of Henry the Fourth, are called Nicholas's Clerks. WARBURTON |