Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn: Ant. How now? what letter are you reading there? 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? Pro. As one relying on your lordship's will, And not depending on his friendly wish. Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish : I am resolv'd, that thou shalt spend some time Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided; [thee: Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent after 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: The uncertain glory of an April day; Pan. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you; Pro. Why, this it is! my heart accords thereto; And yet thousand times it answers, no. ACT II. [Exeunt. SCENE I.-Milan. An Apartment in the Duke's Palace. Enter VALENTINE and SPEED. Speed Sir, your glove. [one. Val. Not mine; my gloves are on. Speed. Madam Silv... madam Silvia ! Speed. She is not within hearing, sir. Speed. She that your worship loves! Val. Why, how know you that I am in love? Speed. Marry, by these special marks: First, you have learned, like sir Proteus, to wreath your arms like a male-content; to relish a love-song, like a Robin-red-breast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a school boy that had lost his A B C; to weep, like a young wench that had buried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one that fears robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you looked sadly, it was for want of money: and now you are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I look on you, I can hardly think you my master. Val. Are all these things perceived in me? Speed. Without you? nay, that's certain, for, without you were so simple, none else would but you are so without these follies, that these follies are within you, and shine through you like the water in an urinal; that not an eye, that sees you, but is a physician to comment on your malady. Val. But tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia? Speed. She, that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper? Val. Hast thou observed that? even she I mean. Speed. Why, sir, I know her not. Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet knowest her not? Speed. Is she not hard favoured, sir? Val. Not so fair, boy, as well favoured. Val. What dost thou know? Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) wel favoured. Val. I mean, that her beauty is exquisite, but her favour infinite. Speed. That's because the one is painted, and the other out of all count. Val. How painted? and how out of count? Speed. Marry, sir, so painted, to inake her fair, that no man counts of her beauty. Val. How esteemest thou me? I account of her beauty. Speed. You never saw her since she was deformed. Val. I have loved her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful. Speed. If you love her, you cannot see her. Speed. Because love is blind. O, that you had mine eyes; or your own eyes had the lights they were wont to have, when you chid at sir Proteus for going ungartered! Val. What should I see then? Speed. Your own present folly, and her passing deformity: for he, being in love, could not see to garter his hose; and you, being in love, cannot see to put on your hose. Val. Belike, boy, then you are in love; for last morning you could not see to wipe my shoes. Speed. True, sir; I was in love with my bed: I thank you, you swinged me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you for yours. Val. In conciusion, I stand affected to her. Speed. I would you were set; so, your affection would cease. Val. Last night she enjoined me to write some write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest? fines to one she loves. Speed. And have you? Val. I have. Speed. Are they not lamely writ? Val. No, boy, but as well as I can do them ;Peace, here she comes. Enter SILVIA. Speed. O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet! now will he interpret to her. Val. Madam and mistress, a thousand good-mor Val. No, believe me. Speed. No believing you indeed, sir: But did you perceive her earnest ? Val. She gave me none, except an angry word Val. That's the letter I writ to her friend. Val. I would, it were no worse. Speed. I'll warrant you, 'tis as well : For often you have writ to her; and she, in modesty, Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply; Speed. O, 'give you good even! here's a million of Or fearing else some messenger, that might her mind dis[Aside. rows. manners. sand. cover, [lover. Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thou-Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her Speed. He should give her interest, and she gives it him. Val. As you enjoin'd me, I have writ your letter, [done. [pains? Sil. Perchance you think too much of so much Sil. A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel; Madam, they are for you. Val. Please you, I'll write your ladyship another. Val. If it please me, madam! what then? O excellent device! was there ever heard a better? Val. How now, sir? what are you reasoning with yourself? Speed. Nay, I was rhyming; 'tis you that have the reason. Val. To do what? All this I speak in print, for in print I found it.— Val. I have dined. Speed. Ay, but hearken, sir; though the cameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat; O, be not like your mistress; be moved, be moved. [Exeunt. SCENE II.--Verona. A Room in Julia's House. Enter PROTEUS and JULIA. Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia. [Gives a ring. Pro. Why then we'll make exchange; here, take you this. Jul. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss. Pro. Here is my hand for my true constancy; [Exit JULIA. Julia, farewell.-What! gone without a word? Pan. Sir Proteus, you are staid for. Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-The same. A Street. Enter LAUNCE, leading a Dog. Laun. Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault: I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with sir Proteus to the I think, Crab my dog be the Imperial's court. sourest-natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear; he is a stone, a very pebble-stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll shew you the manner of it: Speed. What needs she, when she hath made you This shoe is my father;-no, this left shoe is my Speed. To be a spokesman from madam Silvia. Speed. To yourself: why, she wooes you by a figure. Val. What figure? Speed. By a letter, I should say. D father --no, no, this left shoe is my mother ;-nay, that cannot be so neither :-yes, it is so, it is so; it hath the worser sole: This shoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father: A vengeance on't! there 'tis now, sir, this staff is my sister; for, look you, she is as white as a lily, and as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog-no the dog is himself, and I am the dog,-O, the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so. Now come I to my father; Father, your blessing; now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping; now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on :-now come I to my mother, (O, that she could speak now!) like a wood woman; well, I kiss her ;-why, there 'tis ; here's my mother's breath up and down; now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes: now the dog all this while sheds not a tear, nor speaks a word; but see how I lay the dust with my tears. Enter PANTHINO. Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy master is shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? why weep'st thou, man? Away, ass; you will lose the tide, if you tarry any longer. Laun. It is no matter if the ty'd were lost; for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever man ty'd. Pan. What's the unkindest tide? Laun. Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my dog. Pan. Tut man, I mean thou'lt lose the flood: and, in losing the flood, lose thy voyage; and, in losing thy voyage, lose thy master, and, in losing thy master, lose thy service; and, in losing thy service,-Why dost thou stop my mouth? Laun. For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue. Pan. In thy tail? Laun. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service? The tide! Why, man, if the river were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the wind were down, I could drive the boat with my sighs. Pan. Come, come away, man; I was sent to call thee. Laun. Sir, call me what thou darest. Laun. Well, I will go. SCENE IV. Thu. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time. Val. I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin. Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off. Val. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver. Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire: sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks, and spends what he borrows kindly in your company. Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt. Val. I know it well, sir: you have an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other treasure to give your followers; for it appears by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words. Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more; here comes my father. Val. I knew him, as myself; for from our infancy We have convers'd, and spent our hours together: [Exeunt. And though myself have been an idle truant, Omitting the sweet benefit of time, To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection : Duke. Beshrew me, sir, but, if he makes this good I think, 'tis no unwelcome news to you. Val. Should I have wished a thing, it had been he Duke. Welcome him then according to his worth Silvia, I speak to you; and you, sir Thurio :— For Valentine, I need not 'cite him to it: I'll send him hither to you presently. [Erit DUKR Val. This is the gentleman, I told your ladyship, Had come along with me, but that his mistress Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks. Val. Welcome, dear Proteus !-Mistress, I beseech you, Confirm his welcome with some special favour. Sil. Toe low a mistress for so high a servant. Val. Leave off discourse of disability :- Pro. My duty will I boast of, nothing else. Pro. No; that you are worthless. Enter Servant. Ser. Madam, my lord your father would speak with Val. How does your lady? and how thrives your love? Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you; I know, you joy not in a love-discourse. Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now: Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth! Pro. Enough; 1 read your fortune in your eye: Was this the idol that you worship so? Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint? Val. Call her divine. Pro. I will not flatter her. Val. O, flatter me; for love delights in praises. Pro. When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills; And I must minister the like to you. Val. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine, Yet let her be a principality, Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth. Val. Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this? Val. Pardon me, Proteus: all I can, is nothing To her, whose worth makes other worthies nothing; She is alone. Pro. Then let her alone. Val. Not for the world: why, man, sne is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel, As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold. Forgive me, that I do not dream on thee, Because thou seest me dote upon my love. My foolish rival, that her father likes, Only for his possessions are so huge, Is gone with her along; and I must after, For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy. Pro. But she loves you? Val. Ay, we are betroth'd Pro. Go on before; I shall inquire you forth Val. Will you make haste? Pro. I will. [Erit VAL. Even as one heat another heat expels, Ꭰ ? [Erit. SCENE V.-The same. A Street. Enter SPEED and LAUNCE. Speed. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to Milan. Laun. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth; for I am not welcome. I reckon this always-that a man is never undone, till he be hanged; nor never welcome to a place, till some certain shot be paid, and the hostess say, welcome. Speed. Come on, you mad-cap, I'll to the ale-house with you presently; where, for one shot of five-pence, thou shalt have five thousand welcomes. But, sirrah, how did thy master part with madam Julia? O sweet-suggesting love, if thou hast sinn'd, Laun. Marry, after they closed in earnest, they If I lose them, thus find I by their loss, parted very fairly in jest. Speed. But shall she marry him? Laun. No. Speed. What thou say'st? For Valentine, myself: for Julia, Silvia. I will forget that Julia is alive, I cannot now prove constant to myself, Laun. Ay, and what I do, too: look thee, I'll but Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentine, lean, and my staff understands me. Speed. It stands under thee, indeed. Laun. Why, stand under and understand is all one. Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match? Laun. Ask my dog: if he say, ay, it will; if he say, no, it will; if he shake his tail, and say nothing, it will. Speed. The conclusion is then, that it will. Laun. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me, but by a parable. Speed. 'Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, now say'st thou, that my master is become a notable lover? Laun. I never knew him otherwise. Laun. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be. For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter: [Exit Jul. Counsel, Lucetta! gentle girl, assist me ! Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long. Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return. Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. Jul. The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns ; He makes sweet music with the enamel'd stones, And so by many winding nooks he strays. |