Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns, Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme. Jul. As little by such toys as may be possible. Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune. Jul. Heavy! belike it hath some burden, then? Luc. I cannot reach so high. Jul. Let's see your song [Taking the letter]. How now, minion! Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out: And yet methinks I do not like this tune. Jul. You do not? Luc. Jul. You, minion, No, madam; it is too sharp. are too saucy. Luc. Nay, now you are too flat, And mar the concord with too harsh a descant: Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base. Luc. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus. Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me: Here is a coil with protestation! — Go get you gone, and let the papers lie: You would be fingering them, to anger me. Tears the letter. Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleas'd To be so anger'd with another letter. Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same! O hateful hands, to tear such loving words! Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey, And kill the bees, that yield it, with your stings! Look, here is writ "kind Julia:" - unkind Julia! [Exit. I throw thy name against the bruising stones, Shall lodge thee, till thy wound be throughly heal'd; But twice or thrice was "Proteus" written down: - Except mine own name: that some whirlwind bear He couples it to his complaining names. Luc. Madam, Re-enter LUCETTA. Dinner is ready, and your father stays. Jul. Well, let us go. Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here? Jul. If you respect them, best to take them up. Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down: Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold. Jul. I see you have a month's mind to them. Luc. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see I see things too, although you judge I wink. Jul. Come, come; will't please you go? [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. A room in ANTONIO's house. Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO. Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pan. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. Pan. Which would be great impeachment to his age, Ant. Nor need'st thou much impórtune me to that And perfected by the swift course of time. Attends the emperor in his royal court. Ant. I know it well. Pan. 'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither: There shall be practise tilts and tournaments, Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen, And be in eye of every exercise Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth. Ant. I like thy counsel; well hast thou advis'd: And that thou mayst perceive how well I like it, The execution of it shall make known. Even with the speediest expedition I will dispatch him to the emperor's court. Pun. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso, With other gentlemen of good esteem, Are journeying to salute the emperor, And to commend their service to his will. Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go: And, in good time: Pro. now will we break with him. Enter PROTEUS. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life! Ant. How now! what letter are you reading there? Pro. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two Of commendations sent from Valentine, Deliver'd by a friend that came from him. Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news. Pro. There is no news, my lord; but that he writes How happily he lives, how well belov'd, And daily graced by the emperor; Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune. Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish? And not depending on his friendly wish. Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish. For what I will, I will, and there an end. What maintenance he from his friends receives, Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided: Ant. Look, what thou want'st shall be sent after thee: No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go. Come on, Panthino: you shall be employ'd To hasten on his expedition. [Exeunt Ant. and Pan. Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire for fear of burning, And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd. I fear'd to show my father Julia's letter, Lest he should take exceptions to my love Th' uncertain glory of an April day, Re-enter PANTHINO. Pan. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you: ACT II. [Exeunt. SCENE I. Milan. A room in the Duke's palace. Enter VALENTINE and SPEED. Speed. [picking up a glove] Sir, your glove. Val. Not mine; my gloves are on. Speed. Why, then, this may be yours, for this is but one. Val. Ha, let me see: ay, give it me, it's mine: Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine! Ah, Silvia, Silvia! Speed. [calling] Madam Silvia, Madam Silvia! Speed. She is not within hearing, sir. Val. Why, sir, who bade you call her? |