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To take a note, of what I stand in need of,
A C T III.
S CE NE I.
The Duke's Palace in Milan.
Enter Duke, Thurio, and Protheus,
Exit Thur. Now tell me, Protheus, what's your will with me?
Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would discover, The law of friendship bids me to conceal; But when I call to mind your gracious favours Done to me, undeserving as I am, My duty pricks me on to utter that, Which, else, no worldly good should draw from me. Know, worthy Prince, Sir Valentine my friend This night intends to steal away your daughter : Myself am one made privy to the plot. I know, you have determin'd to bestow her On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates: And should she thus be stoll'n away from you, It would be much vexation to your age. Thus, for my duty's fake, I rather chose To cross my friend in his intended drift; Than, by concealing it, heap on your head A pack of sorrows, which would press you down, If unprevented, to your timeless grave.
Duke. Protheus, I thank thee for thine honest care; Which to requite, command me while I live. This love of theirs myself have often seen. Haply, when they have judg'd me fast aileep; And oftentimes have purpos’d to forbid Sir Valentine her
Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean
Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never know That I had any light from thee of this. Pro. Adieu, my lord: Sir Valentine is coming.
Val. Please it your Grace, there is a mefsenger
That stays to bear.my letters to my friends,
Duke. Be they of much import?
Val. The tenour of them doth but fignify My health, and happy being at your court.
Duke. Nay then, no matter; stay with me a while; I am to break with thee of some affairs, That touch me near; wherein thou must be secret. 'Tis not unknown to thee, that I have sought To match my friend Sir Thurio to my daughter. Val. I know it well, my lord; and, sure, the
match Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentleman Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter. Cannot your Grace win her to fancy him ? Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, fullen, fro
ward, Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty; Neither regarding that she is my child, Nor fearing me as if I were her father: And may I say to thee, this pride of hers, Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her; And, where I thought the remnant of mine age Should have been cherilh d by her child-like-duty, I now am full resolv'd to take a wife, And turn her out to who will take her in : Then let her beauty be her wedding-dower: For me, and my possessions, she ésteems not. Val. What would
Grace have me do in this? Duke. There is a lady, *Sir, in Milan here, Whom I affect; but she is nice and coy,
Sir, in Milan here,] It ought to be thus, instead of in Verona herc,---for the Scene apparently is in Milan, as is clear from several Passages in the first Ad, and in the beginning of the first Scene of the fourth Ad. A like Mistake has crepi into the eighth Scene of A& II. where Speed bids his fellow Servant Launce, welcome to Padua.
And nought esteems my aged eloquence:
Val. Win her with gifts, if the respects not words;
Duke. But she did scorn a present, that I sent her.
Duke. But she, I mean, is promis'd by her friends
Val. Why then I would resort io her by night.
Du. Ay, but the doors be lockt, and keys kept fafe, That no man hath recourse to her by night.
Val. What lets, but one may enter at her Window?
Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground, And built so shelving, that one cannot climb it Without apparent hazard of his life.
Val. Why then a ladder quaintly made of cords, To cast up, with a pair of anchoring hooks, Would serve to scale another Hero's tower;
So bold Leander would adventure it.
Duke Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood,
pray, Sir, tell me that. Duke. This very night; for love is like a child, That longs for ev'ry thing that he can come by.
Val. By seven a 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.
Luke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn?
Duke, Then let me see thy cloak;
Val. Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord.
Duke. How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak ? I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak
upon What letter is this same? what's here, To Silvia? And here an engine fit for my proceeding ? I'll be so bold to break the feal for once. Dukereads. My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly,
And slaves they are to me, that send them flying : Oh, could their master come and go as lightly,
Himself would lodge, where senseless they are lying: My herald thoughts in thy pure boom rest them,
While I, their King, that thither them importune, Do curse the grace, that with such grace hath bleft them,
Because myself do want my servants' fortune ; I curse myself, for they are sent by me, That they should harbour, where their lord would be. What's here? Silvia, this night will I enfranchise thee: 'Tis so, and here's the ladder for the purpose. *Why, Phaëton, for thou art Merops' son, * Why, Phaeton, for thou art Merops' son,
Wilt thou affire to guide the heavenly car.] Merops' fon, i. e. a Baftard, base-born.