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Now, therefore, would I have thee to my tutor,
(For long agone I have forgot to court ;
Befides, s the fashion of the time is chang'd)
How, and which way, I may bestow myself,
To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.

Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words;
Dumb jewels often, in their filent kind,
More than quick words, do move a woman's mind.

Duke. But she did scorn a present that I fent her.
Val. A woman scorns fometimes what beft contents

her :
Send her another ; never give her o'er ;
For scorn at first makes after-love the more.
If the do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
But rather to beget more love in you:
If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone ;
For why, the fools are mad if left alone.
Take no repulse, whatever she doth fay;
For, get you gone, fhe doth not mean, away:
Flatter, and praise, commend, extol their graces;
Though ne'er fo black, say, they have angels

' faces. That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

Duke. But she I mean, is promis'd by her friends Unto a youthful gentleman of worth; And kept severely from resort of men, That no man hath access by day to her.

Val. Why then I would resort to her by night. Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock’d, 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.

the fashion of the time) The modes of courtship, the alts by which men recommended themselves to ladies. JOHNSON.. What lets,] i. e. what hinders. STEEVENS.

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Val. Why, then a ladder, quaintly made of cords, To caft 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, Advise me where I may have such a ladder. Val. When would you use it ? pray, fir, 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

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';
P'll get me one of such another length.

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 me. What letter is this faine? what's here? To Silvia ? And here an engine fit for my proceeding! I'll be so bold to break the feal for once. [Duke reads. My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly; And

saves they are to me, that send them flying : Ob, could their master come and go as lightly,

Himself would lodge, where senseless they are lying. My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom reft them;

While I, their king, that thither them importune, Do curse the grace that with such grace hath bless'd them,

Because myself do want my servant's fortune : I curse myself, ? for they are sent by mne, That they should harbour where their lord would be. 1 for they are fent by me,] For is the same as for that, fince.



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)
Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car,
And with thy daring folly burn the world?
Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee?
Go, base intruder! over-weening flave!
Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates;
And think, my patience, more than thy desert,
Is privilege for thy departure hence :
Thank me for this, more than for all the favours,
Which, all too much, I have bestow'd on thee.
But if thou linger in my territories,
Longer than swiftest expedition

give thee time to leave our royal court,
By heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the love
I ever bore my daughter, or thyself.
Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excuse,
But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence.


. Val. And why not death, rather than living tor

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,

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Merops' fon)] Thou art Phaëton in thy rafhness, but without his pretensions; thou art not the son of a divinity, but a terra filius, a low born wretch; Merops is thy true father, with whom Phaëton was falsely reproached. JOHNSON.

This serap of mythology Shakespeare might have found in the spurious play of K. John, 1591, 1611, and 1622 :

as sometime Phaeton
“ Mistrusting filly Merops for his fire."
Or in Robert Greene's Orlando Furioso, 1594:

" Why foolish, hardy, daring, fimple groom,
" Follower of fond conceited Phaeton, &c.” STEEVENS.


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And feed upon the shadow of perfection.
Except I be by Silvia in the night,
There is no mufick 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's, illumin’d, cherish’d, kept alive.
9 I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom :
Tarry I here, I but attend on death;
But, fly I hence, I fly away from life.

Enter Protheus and Launce.
Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out.
Laun. So-ho! fo-ho!
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 would'At thou strike?
Laun. Nothing
Pro. Villain, forbear.
Launc. Why, fir, I'll strike nothing : I pray you,-
Pro. Sirrah, I say, forbear : Friend Valentine, a

word, Val. My ears are stopp'd, and cannot hear good


9 I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:] To fly his doom, used for by flying, or in flying, is a gallicism. The fense is, By avoiding the execution of his sentence I shall not escape death. If I stay here, I suffer myself to be destroyed; if I go away, I destroy myself. Johnson.


So much of bad already hạth poffefs'd them.

Pro. Then in dumb silence will I bury mine,
For they are harsh, untuneable, and bad.

Val. Is Silvia dead ?
Pro. No, Valentine.

Val. No Valentine, indeed, for facred 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

vanilh'd. Pro. That thou art banish'd, oh, that is the news, From hence, from Silvia, and from me thy friend.

Val. Oh, I have fed upon this woe already, And now excess of it will make ine surfeit. Doth Silvia know that I am banished ?

Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom,
(Which unrevers’d, stands in effectual force)
A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears ;
Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd;
With them, upon her knees, her humble felf;
Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them,
As if but now they waxed pale for woe :
But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad fighs, deep groans, nor filver-lhedding tears,
Could penetrate her uncompassionate fire;
But Valentine, if he be ta’en, must die.
Besides, her intercession chaf'd him so,
When the for thy repeal was suppliant,
That to close prison he commanded her,
With many bitter threats of 'biding there.
Val. No more ; unless the next word, that thou

Have some malignant power upon my life:
If fo, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear,
As ending anthem of my endless dolour,


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