Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go: And, in good time,-now will we break with him. Enter PROTEUs, not seeing his Father. Pro. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart; [Kissing a letter. Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn. Ant. How now! what letter are you reading there? Pro. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two Of commendations sent from Valentine, [Putting it up. Deliver'd by a friend that came from him. 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? Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish. I am resolv'd, that thou shalt spend some time What maintenance he from his friends receives, Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided: Ant. Look, what thou want'st shall be sent after thee: No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.Come on, Panthino: : you shall be employ'd To hasten on his expedition. [Exeunt ANTONIO and PANTHINO. Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire for fear of burning, And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd. I fear'd to show my father Julia's letter, Lest he should take exceptions to my love; And, with the vantage of mine own excuse, Hath he excepted most against my love. O! how this spring of love resembleth The uncertain glory of an April day, Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away. Re-enter PANTHINO. Pant. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you: He is in haste; therefore, I pray you, go. Pro. Why, this it is: my heart accords thereto, And yet a thousand times it answers no. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I.-Milan. A Room in the DUKE's Palace. Speed. Sir, your glove. one. Val. Ha! let me see: ay, give it me, it's mine.— Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine! Ah Silvia! Silvia! Speed. Madam Silvia! madam Silvia! Speed. She is not within hearing, sir. Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow. Val. Why, how know you that I am in love? Speed. Marry, by these special marks. First, you have learn'd, like sir Proteus, to wreath your arms, like a mal-content; to relish a love song, like a robin-redbreast; to walk alone, like one that hath the pestilence; to sigh, like a schoolboy that hath lost his A B C; to weep, like a young wench that hath 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 laugh'd, to crow like a cock; when you walk'd, to walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you look'd sadly, it was for want of money; and now you are so 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 be: 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 know'st her not? Speed. Is she not hard-favour'd, sir? Val. Not so fair, boy, as well favour'd. Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) wellfavour'd. 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 make her fair, that no man 'counts of her beauty. Val. How esteem'st thou me? I account of her beauty. Speed. You never saw her since she was deform'd. 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 conclusion, I stand affected to her. Speed. I would you were set, so your affection would Speed. O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet! Now will he interpret to her. manners. Val. Madam and mistress, a thousand good morrows. Speed. O! 'give ye good even: here's a million of [Aside. Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand. Speed. He should give her interest, and she gives it him. Val. As you enjoin'd me, I have writ your letter Unto the secret nameless friend of yours; Which I was much unwilling to proceed in, But for my duty to your ladyship. [Giving a paper. Sil. I thank you, gentle servant. "Tis very clerkly done. Val. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off; For, being ignorant to whom it goes, I writ at random, very doubtfully. Sil. Perchance you think too much of so much pains? Val. No, madam: so it stead you, I will write, Please you command, a thousand times as much. And yet, Sil. A pretty period. Well, I guess the sequel: And yet I will not name it ;—and yet I care not;— And yet take this again;-and yet I thank you, Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more. Speed. And yet you will; and yet, another yet. [Aside. Val. What means your ladyship? do you not like it? Sil. Yes, yes: the lines are very quaintly writ, But since unwillingly, take them again. Nay, take them. Val. Madam, they are for you. [Giving it back. Sil. Ay, ay; you writ them, sir, at my request, But I will none of them: they are for you. I would have had them writ more movingly. Val. Please you, I'll write your ladyship another. Sil. And, when it's writ, for my sake read it over; And, if it please you, so; if not, why, so. [Exit. Speed. O jest! unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple. My master sues to her, and she hath taught her suitor, He being her pupil, to become her tutor. O excellent device! was there ever heard a better, That my master, being scribe, to himself should write the letter? 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? Speed. To be a spokesman from madam Silvia. Val. What figure? Why, she woos you by a figure. Speed. By a letter, I should say. Val. Why, she hath not writ to me? Speed. What need she, when she hath made you write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest? 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. Speed. And that letter hath she deliver'd, and there an end. Val. I would it were no worse! I'll warrant you, 'tis as well: For often have you writ to her, and she, in modesty, Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply; Or fearing else some messenger, that might her mind discover, Her self hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover. 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 nourish'd 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. Jul. If you turn not, you will return the sooner. For truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace it. Enter PANTHINO. Pant. Sir Proteus, you are stay'd for. Pro. Go; I come, I come.— Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-The Same. A Street. Enter LAUNCE, leading his Dog. Launce. 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 imperial's court. I think Crab, my dog, be the sourest Val. So do you. natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father Enter PANTHINO. Pant. 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'll lose the tide, if you tarry any longer. Launce. It is no matter if the tied were lost; for it is the unkindest tied that ever any man tied. Pant. What's the unkindest tide? Launce. Why, he that's tied here; Crab, my dog. Pant. 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? Launce. For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue. Pant. In thy tail? Thu. What seem I that I am not? Thu. What instance of the contrary? Thu. And how quote you my folly? Val. Well, then, 'twill double your folly. Sil. What, angry, sir Thurio? do you change colour? Val. Give him leave, madam : he is a kind of cameleon. Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood, than live in your air. Val. You have said, sir. 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. Here comes Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more. Enter the Duke. Val. My lord, I will be thankful And not without desert so well reputed. Duke. Hath he not a son? Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well deserves Val. I knew him, as myself; for from our infancy To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection, Duke. Beshrew me, sir, but, if he make this good, And here he means to spend his time a-while. I think, 'tis no unwelcome news to you. Val. Should I have wish'd 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. [Exit DUKE. Sil. Belike, that now she hath enfranchis'd them, Upon some other pawn for fealty. Val. Nay, sure, I think, she holds them prisoners still. Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind, How could he see his way to seek you out? Val. Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. Sil. Have done, have done. Here comes the gentleman. [Exit THURIO. Val. Welcome, dear Proteus !-Mistress, I beseech you, Confirm his welcome with some special favour. Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither, If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from. Val. Mistress, it is. Sweet lady, entertain him To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship. Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a servant. Val. Leave off discourse of disability.— That you are worthless. Sil. I wait upon his pleasure: come, sir Thurio, [Exeunt SILVIA, THURIO, and SPEED. Val. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came? Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much commended. Val. And how do yours? Pro. I left them all in health. 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: I have done penance for contemning love; Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye. Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint? Pro. No, but she is an earthly paragon. 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. Except thou wilt except against my love. Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine own? Val. And I will help thee to prefer her, too: She shall be dignified with this high honour,To bear my lady's train, lest the base earth Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss, And, of so great a favour growing proud, Disdain to root the summer-smelling flower, And make rough winter everlastingly. 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, she is mine own; And I as rich in having such a jewel, As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, Val. Ay, and we are betroth'd; nay, more, our marriage hour, With all the cunning manner of our flight [Exit VALENTINE. Even as one heat another heat expels, Is it mine own, or Valentino's praise, Her true perfection, or my false transgression, There is no reason but I shall be blind. SCENE V.-The Same. A Street. Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it. [Exit. But now I worship a celestial sun. Speed. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to Milan. Launce. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth, for I am not welcome. I reckon this always-that a man is never undone, till he be hang'd; 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 alehouse Speed. But shall she marry him? Speed. How then? Shall he marry her? Speed. What, are they broken? Launce. No, they are both as whole as a fish. Speed. What an ass art thou? I understand thee not. Speed. What thou say'st? Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken; I will forget that Julia is alive, Launce. Ay, and what I do too : look thee; I'll but For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter: lean, and my staff understands me. Speed. It stands under thee, indeed. Launce. Why, stand-under and under-stand is all one. Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match? Launce. 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. Launce. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me, but by a parable. Speed. Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how say'st thou, that my master is become a notable lover? Launce. I never knew him otherwise. But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me : Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long. Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return. Pity the dearth that I have pined in, 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 damm'st it up, the more it burns. He makes sweet music with the enamel'd stones, |