1

Myself am one made privy to the plot.

I know, you have determined to bestow her
On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates:
And should she thus be ftoll'n away from you,
It would be much vexation to your age.
Thus, for my duty's fake, I rather chofe
To cross my friend in his intended drift;
Than by concealing it, heap on your head
A pack of forrows, which would press you down,
Being 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 asleep;
And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid
Sir Valentine her company, and my court:
But, fearing left my jealous aim might err,
And fo unworthily difgrace the man,

(A rashness that I ever yet have fhunn'd ;)
I gave him gentle looks; thereby to find
That which thyfelf haft now disclos'd to me.
And that thou may'ft perceive my fear of this,
Knowing that tender youth is foon fuggefted,
I nightly lodge her in an upper tower,
The key whereof myself have ever kept;
And thence the cannot be convey'd away.

Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean
How he her chamber-window will ascend,
And with a corded ladder fetch her down;
For which the youthful lover now is gone,
And this way comes he with it presently:
Where, if it please you, you may intercept him.
But, good my lord, do it fo cunningly,
That my difcov'ry be not aim'd at;
For love of you, not hate unto my friend,
Hath made me publisher of this pretence.

7 Be not aim'd at,] Be not gue fed.

8

8 Of this pretence.] Of this claim made to your daughter.

Duke,

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.

SCENE

Enter Valentine.

II.

[Exit Pro.

Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast?
Val. Please it your Grace, there is a messenger
That ftays to bear my letters to my friends,
And I am going to deliver them.

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; ftay with me awhile; I am to break with thee of fome affairs,

That touch me near; wherein thou must be secret.
'Tis not unknown to thee, that I have fought
To match my friend, Sir Thurio, to my daughter.
Val. I know it well, my lord; and fure, the match
Were rich and honourable; befides, 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, truft me; fhe is peevish, fullen, froward,

Proud, disobedient, ftubborn, lacking duty;
Neither regarding that the is my child,
Nor fearing me as if I were her father.

And may I fay 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 cherish'd by her child-like duty,
I now am full refolv'd to take a wife,

And turn her out to who will take her in.
Then let her beauty be her wedding dower,

For

For me, and my poffeffions, the esteems not.

Val. What would your Grace have me to do in this?

Duke. There is a lady, Sir, in Milan, here, 8
Whom I affect; but she is nice and coy,
And nought efteems my aged eloquence:
Now therefore would I have thee to my tutor,
(For long agone I have forgot to court;
Befides, the fashion of the time is chang'd) 9
How, and which way, I may bestow myself,
To be regarded in her fun-bright eye.

Val. Win her with gifts, if the refpects not words; Dumb jewels often in their filent kind,

More than quick words, do move a woman's mind, Duke. But fhe did fcorn a prefent, that I fent her. Val. A woman fometimes fcorns what beft contents

her;

Send her another; never give her o'er;

For fcorn at firft makes after love the more,
If fhe do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
But rather to beget more love in you:
If the do chide, 'tis not to have you gone;
For why, the fools are mad if left alone.
Take no repulfe, whatever fhe doth fay;
For, get you gone, fhe doth not mean away:
Flatter, and praife, commend, extol their graces.
Tho' ne'er fo black, fay, they have angels' faces.
That man that hath a tongue, I fay, is no man,
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman,
Duke. But the I mean, is promis'd by her friends

Unto a youthful gentleman of worth,
And kept feverely from refort 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 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 fo fhelving, that one cannot climb it Without apparent hazard of his life.

Val. Why then a ladder quaintly made of cords,
To caft up, with a pair of anchoring hooks,
Would ferve to fcale 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 fuch 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 ev'ry thing that he can come by. Val. By feven a clock I'll get you fuch a ladder. Duke. But hark thee: I will go to her alone; How fhall I beft 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 ferve the turn?
Val. Ay, my good lord.

Duke. Then let me fee thy cloak;

I'll get me one of fuch another length.

Val. Why, any clock will ferve the turn, my lord,
Duke. How fhall I fashion me to wear a cloak ?

I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.
What letter is this fame? what's here? To Silvia?
And here an engine fit for my proceeding?

I'll be fo bold to break the feal for once. [Duke reads.

My thoughts do barbour with my Silvia nightly,
And flaves they are to me, that send them flying:
Ob, could their master come and go as lightly,

Himfelf would lodge, where fenfeless they are lying:
My herald thoughts in thy pure bofom reft them,
While I, their King, that thither them importune,
Do curfe the grace, that with fuch grace bath bleft them,
Because myself do want my fervant's fortune;

I curfe myself, for they are fent by me,

I

2.

That they should barbour, where their lord would be.
What's here? Silvia, this night will I enfranchife thee:
'Tis fo, and here's the ladder for the purpose.
Why, Phaeton, for thou art Merops' fon,
Wilt thou afpire to guide the heavenly car,
And with thy daring folly burn the world?
Wilt thou reach ftars, because they shine on thee?
Go, bafe intruder! over-weening flave!
Beftow thy fawning fmiles on equal mates;
And think, my patience, more than thy defert,
Is privilege for thy departure hence;

Thank me for this, more than for all the favours,
Which, all too much, I have beftow'd on thee.
But if thou linger in my territories,

Longer than fwifteft expedition

Will give thee time to leave our royal court,

By heav'n, my wrath fhall far exceed the love,
I ever bore my daughter or thyself:

Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excufe,

But as thou lov'ft thy life, make speed from hence.

-for they are fent by me.] For is the fame as for that, fince. 2 Merops' fon.] Thou art Pha ton in thy rashness, but with out his pretenfions; thou art not

[Exit.

the fon of a Divinity, but a terræ filius, a low born wretch; Merops is thy true father, with whom Phaeton was falfly reproached.

SCENE