Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear: Warrant me welcome to my Proteus. Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men. But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth: Luc. Pray heaven, he prove so, when you come to him. Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that wrong, To bear a hard opinion of his truth: Only deserve my love by loving him; ACT III. I am to break with thee of some affairs, Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward, And turn her out to who will take her in: SCENE I.-Milan.-An Ante-room in the DUKE'S palace. Enter DUKE, THURIO, and PROTEUS. Duke. Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile; We have some secrets to confer about. [Exit THURIO. Now, tell me, Proteus, 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. I know you have determin'd to bestow her Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care, Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never know Pro. Adieu, my lord; Sir Valentine is coming. [Exit. Enter VALENTINE. Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? Val. Please it your grace there is a messenger That stays to bear my letters to my friends; And I am going to deliver them. Duke. Be they of much import? Val. The tenor of them doth but signify My health, and happy being at your court. Duke. Nay, then no matter; stay with me awhile; Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words; Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, More than quick words, do move a woman's mind. Duke. But she did scorn a present that I sent her. Val. A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her. Send her another; never give her o'er; For scorn at first makes after-love the more. Duke. But she I mean, is promis'd by her friends Val. Why, then I would resort to her by night. Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock'd, and keys kept safe, 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, Advise me where I may have such 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 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 it 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; I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.-- [Reads. My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly; Because myself do want my servants' fortune: I curse myself for they are sent by me, That they should harbour where their lord should be. What's here? Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee. 'Tis so and here's the ladder for the purpose:- Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee? Thank me for this, more than for all the favours Longer than swiftest expedition Will give thee time to leave our royal court, 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. [Exit DUKE. Val. And why not death rather than living torment? 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 thin that she is by, And feed upon the shadow of perfection. Except I be by Silvia in the night, There is no music 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'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive. 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 PROTEUS and LAUNCE. Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out. Laun. So-ho! so-ho! Pro. What see'st thou? Pro. That thou art banished, Oh! that's 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 me 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 self; Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them, As if but now they waxed pale for woe: But neither bended kness, pure hands held up, Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears, Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire; But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die Besides, her intercession chaf'd him so, Val. No more; unless the next word that thou speak'st, Have some malignant power upon my life: Pro. Cease to lament for that thou canst not help; Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy, Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north gate. Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine. Val. O my dear Silvia! hapless Valentine! [Exeunt VALENTINE and PROTEUS. Laun. I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to think my master is a kind of a knave: but that's all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now, that knows me to be in love; yet I am in love; but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me; nor who 'tis I love, and yet 'tis a woman: but what woman, I will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milk-maid: yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips: yet 'tis a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages. She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel,-which is much in a bare Christian. Here is a cat-log [Pulling out a paper] of her conditions. Imprimis, She can fetch and carry. Why, a horse can do no more; nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore is she better than a jade. Item, She can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in any maid with clean hands. Enter SPEED. Speed. How now, Signior Launce; what news with your mastership? Laun. With my master's ship, why, it is at sea. Speed. Well, your old vice still; mistake the word: What news then in your paper? Laun. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st. Laun. Why, as black as ink. Laun. Fie on thee, jolt-head; thou canst not read. Laun. I will try thee: Tell me this: Who begot thee? Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather. Laun. O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy grandmother: this proves that thou canst not read. Speed. Come, fool, come; try me in thy paper. Laun. There; and St. Nicholas be thy speed! Speed. Imprimis, She can milk. Laun. Ay, that she can. Speed. Item, She brews good ale. Laun. And therefore comes the proverb, Blessing o' your heart, you brew good ale. Speed. Item, She can serv. Laun. That's as much as to say, Can she so? Speed. Item, She can knit. Laun. What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when she can knit a stock? Speed. Item, She can wash and scour. Laun. A special virtue; for then she need not be washed and scoured. Speed. Item She can spin. Laun. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living. Speed. Item, She hath many nameless virtues. Laun. That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have Speed. Item, She hath a sweet mouth. Laun. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk. Speed. Item, She is slow in words. Laun. O villain, that set this down among her vices! To be slow in words, is a woman's only virtue: I pray thee, out with't; and place it for her chief virtue. Speed. Item, She is proud. Laun. Out with that, too; it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her. Speed. Item, She hath no teeth. Laun. I care not for that neither, because I love crusts. Speed. Item, She is curst. Laun. Well, the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. Speed. Item, She will often praise her liquor. Laun. If the liquor be good, she shall: if she will not, I will; for good things should be praised. Speed. Item, She is too liberal. Laun. Of her tongue she cannot; for that's writ down she's slow of: of her purse she shall not; for that I'll keep shut: now, of another thing he may, for that I cannot help. Well, proceed. Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults. Laun. Stop there; I'll have her: she was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that last article. Rehearse that once more. Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit. Laun. More hair than wit,-it may be; I'll prove it: The cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it is more than the salt; the hair that covers the wit, is more than the wit: for the greater hides the less. What's next? Speed. And more faults than hairs. Laun. That's monstrous: Oh! that that were out! Speed. And more wealth than faults. Laun, Why, that word makes the faults gracious: Well, I'll have her: and if it be a match, as nothing is impossible, Speed. What then? Laun. Why, then will I tell thee,-that thy master stays for thee at the north-gate. Speed. For me? Laun. For thee? ay; who art thou? he hath staid for a better man than thee. Speed. And must I go to him? Laun. Thou must run to him, for thou hast staid so long, that going will scarce serve the turn. Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner? 'pox of your love-letters! [Exit. Laun. Now will he be swinged for reading my letter: An unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into secrets!-I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction. [Exit. SCENE II.-The same-A Room in the DUKE'S . Palace. Enter DUKE and THURIO; PROTEUS behind. Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love you, Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight. Thu. Since his exile she hath despis'd me most, Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously. Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your grace, Duke. Thou know'st how willingly I would effect The match between Sir Thurio and my daughter. Pro. I do, my lord Duke. And also, I think thou art not ignorant Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here. Pro. The best way is to slander Valentine With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent; Especially agains his very friend. Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage him, Your slander never can endamage him; Therefore the office is indifferent, Being entreated to it by your friend. Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord: if I can do it, By aught that I can speak in his dispraise, She shall not long continue love to him. But say, this weed her love from Valentine, It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio. Thu. Therefore, as you unwind her love from him, Lest it should ravel, and be good to none, You must provide to bottom it on me: As you in worth dispraise Sir Valentine. Duke. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind; Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect :- Duke. Ay, much the force of heaven-bred poesy. For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews; Visit by night your lady's chamber-window 1 Duke. This discipline shows thou hast been in love. Thu. And thy advice this night I'll put in practice: Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver, Let us into the city presently To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music: I have a sonnet that will serve the turn, To give the onset to thy good advice. Duke. About it, gentlemen. Pro. We'll wait upon your grace till after supper; And afterward determine our proceedings. Duke. Even now about it; I will pardon you. ACT IV. SCENE 1.-A Forest near Mantua Enter certain OUTLAWS. [Exeunt. Val. To Verona. 1 Out. Whence came you? Val. From Milan. S Out. Have you long sojourned there? Val. Some sixteen months; and longer might have staid, If crooked fortune had not thwarted me. 1 Out. What, were you banish'd thence? Val. I was. 2 Out. For what offence? Val. For that which now torments me to rehearse : I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent; But yet I slew him manfully in fight, Without false vantage or base treachery. 1 Out. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so: But were you banish'd for so small a fault? Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doom. Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy; Or else I often had been miserable. 3 Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar, This fellow were a king for our wild faction. 1 Out. We'll have him: sirs, a word. Speed. Master, be one of them; It is an honourable kind of thievery. 2 Out. Tell us this: have you anything to take to? 8 Out. Know, then, that some of us are gentlemen, Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth Thrust from the company of awful men⚫ For practising to steal away a lady, An heir, and near allied unto the Duke. 2 Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman Whom, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart. 1 Out. And 1, for such like petty crimes as these. With goodly shape; and, by your own report, As we do in our quality much want: 2 Out. Indeed, because you are a banish'd man, Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you: Are you content to be our general? To make a virtue of necessity, And live, as we do, in this wilderness? 3 Out. What say'st thou? wilt thou be of our consort? Say ay, and be the captain of us all : We'll do thee homage, and be rul'd by thee, 1 Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. 2 Out. Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offer'd. Val. I take your offer, and will live with you; Provided that you do no outrages On silly wonien or poor passengers. 3 Out. No, we detest such vile base practices. Come, go with us, we'll bring thee to our crews, And show thee all the treasure we have got; Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Milan-Court of the Palace. Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine, She twits me with my falsehood to my friend. Enter THURIO and Musicians. Thu. How now, Sir Proteus? are you crept before us? Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio; for you know that love Will creep in service where it cannot go. Thu. Ay, but, I hope, sir, that you love not here. Pro. Ay, Silvia,-for your sake. Thu. I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen, Let's tune, and to it lustily a while. Enter Host, at a distance; and JULIA, in boy's clothes. Host. Now, my young guest! methinks you're allycholly; I pray you, why is it? Jul. Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry. Host. Come, we'll have you merry: I'll bring you where you will hear music, and see the gentleman that you ask'd for. Jul. But shall I hear him speak? Host. Aye: but peace, let's hear 'em. SONG. Who is Silvia? What is she, [Music plays. That all our swains commend her? Holy, fair, and wise, is she; The heavens such grace did lend her, That she might admired be. Is she kind as she is fair? For beauty lives with kindness: Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness: And, being help'd, inhabits there. Then to Silvia let us sing, That Silvia is excelling; She excels each mortal thing, Upon the dull earth dwelling: To her let us garlands bring. G Host. How now, are you sadder than you were before? How do you, man? the music likes you not. Jul. You mistake; the musician likes me not, Jul. He plays false, father. Host. How? out of tune on the strings? Jul. Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my very heart-strings. Host. You have a quick ear. Jul. Ay, would I were deaf! it makes me have a slow heart. Host. I perceive you delight not in music. Jul. Not a whit, when it jars so. Host. Hark, what fine change is in the music! Jul. Ay; that change is the spite. Host. You would have them always play but one thing? Jul. I would always have one play but one thing. But, host, doth this Sir Proteus, that we talk on, often resort unto this gentlewoman? Host. I tell you what Launce, his man, told me, he loved her out of all nick. Jul. Where is Launce? Host. Gone to seek his dog; which, to-morrow, by his master's command, he must carry for a present to his lady. Jul. Peace! stand aside the company parts. Pro. Sir Thurio, fear not you! I will so plead, That you shall say, my cunning drift excels. Thu. Where meet we? Pro. At saint Gregory's well Thu. Farewell. [Exeunt THURIO and Musicians, SILVIA appears above, at her window. Pro. Madam, good even to your ladyship. Sil. I thank you for your music, gentlemen: Who is that, that spake? Pro. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth, You'd quickly learn to know him by his voice. Sil. Sir Proteus, as I take it. Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. Pro. That I may compass yours. That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows? Even for this time I spend in talking to thee. Jul. "Twere false if I should speak it; [Aside. Sil. Say that she be; yet Valentine, thy friend, Survives; to whom, thyself art witness, I am betroth'd: And art thou not asham'd To wrong him with thy importunacy? Pro. I likewise hear that Valentine is dead. Assure thyself, my love is buried. Pro. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth. Sil. Go to thy lady's grave, and call hers thence; Or, at the least, in hers sepulchre thine. Jul. He heard not that. Pro. Madam, if your heart be so obdurate, Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love, The picture that is hanging in your chamber ; To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep: For, since the substance of your perfect self Is else devoted, I am but a shadow; And to your shadow will I make true love. [Aside. Jul. If 'twere a substance, you would, sure, deceive it, And make it but a shadow, as I am. Sil. I am very loth to be your idol, sir; Pro. As wretches have o'er-night, [Aside. Sil. Egl. SILVIA appears above, at her window. Who calls? Your servant and your friend; One that attends your ladyship's command. Sil. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good morrow Sil. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman, Which heaven and fortune still reward with plagues. As full of sorrows as the sea of sands, That I may venture to depart alone. Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances; As much I wish all good befortune you. Sil. This evening coming. Laun. When a man's servant shall play the cur with him, look you, it goes hard: one that I brought up of a puppy; one that I saved from drowning, when three or four of his blind brothers and sisters went to it! I have taught him-even as one would say precisely, Thus I would teach a dog. I was sent to deliver him, as a present to mistress Silvia, from my master; and I came no sooner into the dining-chamber, but he steps me to her trencher, and steals her capon's leg. Oh! 'tis a foul thing, when a cur cannot keep himself in all companies! I would have, as one should say, one that takes upon him to be a dog indeed, to be, as it were, a dog at all things. If I had not had more wit than he, to take a fault upon me that he did, I think verily he had been hanged for't; sure as I live, he had suffer'd for't: you shall judge. He thrusts me himself into the company of three or four gentleman-like dogs, under the duke's table: he had not been there (bless the mark) a pissing while, but all the chamber smelt him. Out with the dog, says one; What cur is that? says another; Whip him out, says a third; Hang him up, says the duke. I, having been acquainted with the smell before, knew it was Crab; and goes me to the fellow that whips the dogs: Friend, quoth I, you mean to whip the dog? Ay, marry, do I, quoth he. You do him the more wrong, quoth 1; 'twas I did the thing you wot of. He makes no more ado, but whips me out of the chamber. How many masters would do this for their servant? Nay, I'll be sworn, I have sat in the stocks for puddings he hath stolen, otherwise he had been executed: I have stood on the pillory for geese he hath killed, otherwise he had suffered for't: thou think'st not of this now!-Nay, I remember the trick you served me, when I took my leave of madam Silvia; did not I bid thee still mark me, and do as I do? When didst thou see me heave up my leg, and make water against a gentlewoman's farthingale? didst thou ever see me do such a trick? Enter PROTEUS and JULIA. Pro. Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well, And will employ thee in some service presently. Jul. In what you please:-I will do what I can. Pro. I hope thou wilt.-How now, you whoreson peasant? [TO LAUNCE. Where have you been these two days loitering? Laun. Marry, sir, I carried mistress Silvia the dog you bade me. Pro. And what says she to my little jewel? Laun. Marry, she says your dog was a cur; and tells you, currish thanks is good enough for such a present. Pro. But she received my dog? Laun. No, indeed, she did not: here have I brought him back again. Pro. What, didst thou offer her this from me? Laun. Ay, Sir; the other squirrel was stolen from me by the hangman's boys in the market-place: and then I offer'd her mine own; who is a dog as big as ten of yours, and therefore the gift the greater. Pro. Go, get thee hence, and find my dog again, [Exit LAUNCE Sebastian, I have entertained thee, She lov'd me well, deliver'd it to me. Jul. It seems, you lov'd her not, to leave her toker She's dead, belike. Pro. Jul. Alas! Pro. Not so; I think she lives. Why dost thou cry alas? Jul. I cannot choose but pity her. |