O heavenly Julia! Ant. How now? what letter are you reading there? Pro. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two Of commendation sent from Valentine, 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 Excuse it not, for I am peremptory. Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided; Please you, deliberate a day or two. Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent after thee: No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.- To hasten on his expedition. [Exeunt Ant. and Pant. ing; And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd: The uncertain glory of an April day; Pant. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you; He is in haste, therefore, I pray you, go. Speed. Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia! Val. How now, sirrah? Speed. She is not within hearing, sir. Val. Why, sir, who bade you call her? Val. Well, you'll still be too forward. Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow. have learned, like sir Proteus, to wreath your arms like a male-content; to relish a love-song, like a robin-redbreast; 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. What dost thou know? Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) well favoured. Val. I mean, that her beauty is exquisite, but her fa vour 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 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 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 ine 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 cease. Val. Last night she enjoin'd me to write some lines to one she loves. [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. 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 ; Or fearing else some messenger, that might her mind discover, Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover. All this I speak in print; for in print I found it.Why muse you, sir? 'tis dinner time. Val. I have dined. Speed. Ay, but hearken, sir: though the cameleon, Love, can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished Sil. I thank you, gentle servant: 'tis very clerkly by my victuals, and would fain have meat: O, be not done. Val. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off; For, being ignorant to whoin it goes, I writ at randon, 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. Sil. Ay, ay; you writ them, sir, at my request; 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. Val. If it please me, madam! what then? Sil. Why, if it please you, take it for your labour; And so good morrow, servant. [Exit Sil. 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? 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. Pro. When possibly I can, I will return. Jul. If you turn not, you will return the sooner: Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake. [Giving 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; And when that hour o'er-slips me in the day, Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake, The next ensuing hour some foul mischance Torment me for my love's forgetfulness! My father stays my coming; answer not; The tide is now: Day, not the tide of tears; That tide will stay me longer than I should: [Exit Julia. Julia, farewell.-What! gone without a word? Pant. 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 weep Vel. How now, sir? what are you reasoning with ing; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault: yourself? Speed. Nay, I was rhyming; 'tis you that have the reason. Val. To do what? Speed. To be a spokesman from madam Silvia. Speed, To yourself: why, she wooes you by a figure. Speed. By a letter, I should say. Speed. What need she, when she hath made you write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest? Fal. No, believe me. Speed. No believing you, indeed, sir: But did you perceive her earnest? Fal. She gave me none, except an angry word. 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-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 show you the manner of it: This shoe is my father;-no, this left shoe is my 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 ven geance 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 m self; 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 any man tyd. 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. Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blootl, 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 fol lowers; for it appears by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words. Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more; here comes my father. Enter Duke. Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.Sir, Valentine, your father's in good health: What say you to a letter from your friends Of much good news? Val. My lord, I will be thankful To any happy messenger from thence. Duke. Know you Don Antonio, your countryman ? Val. Ay, my lord, I know the gentleman To be of worth, and worthy estimation, And not without desert so well reputed. Duke. Hath he not a son? Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well deserves The honour and regard of such a father. Duke. You know him well? Val. I knew him, as myself; for from our infancy We have convers'd, and spent our hours together: 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 make this good, I think, 'tis no unwelcome news to you. [Exit Duke. 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. 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 out you? Fal. Why lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. Thu. They say, that love hath not an eye at all. Val. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself; Upon a homely object love can wink. Enter Proteus, ⚫Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the gentle man. Vel. 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. Fal. 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. Pre. Not so, sweet lady; but too mean a servant To have a look of such a worthy mistress. Val. Leave off discourse of disability :Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant. Pro. My duty will I boast of, nothing else. Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed; Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress. Pro. I'll die on him that says so, but yourself. Sil. That you are welcome? Pro. Pre. 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. Pro. Except my mistress. Val. Sweet, except not any 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-swelling 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. Val. Not for the world: why, man, she is mine own; As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, No; that you are worthless. Forgive me, that I do not dream on thee, 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. Vel. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now: Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes, And bath so humbled me, as, I confess, Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth! Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye: Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint? I will not flatter her. Pro. Because thou seest me dote upon my love. For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy. Ay, and we are betroth'd ; Nay, more, our marriage-hour, Pro. Go on before; I shall enquire you forth: Or as one nail by strength drives out another, Her true perfection, or my false transgression, [Exit. 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 alehouse 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 ? Laun. Marry, after they closed in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest. Speed. But shall she marry him? Laun. Ay, and what I do too: look thee, I'll but 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, how say'st thou, that my master is become a notable lover? Laun. I never knew him otherwise. Laun. Because thou hast not so much charity in thee, as to go to the ale with a Christian: Wilt thou go? Speed. At thy service. [Exeunt. SCENE VI.-The same. An apartment in the palace. Enter Proteus. Pro. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn; To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn ; To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn; And even that power, which gave me first my oath, Provokes me to this three-fold perjury. Love bade me swear, and love bids rae forswear: O sweet-suggesting love, if thou hast sinn'd, Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it. At first I did adore a twinkling star, But now I worship a celestial sun. Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken; And he wants wit, that wants resolved will To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better.- If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; And Silvia, witness heaven, that made her fair! I will forget that Julia is alive, I cannot now prove constant to myself, Now presently I'll give her father notice 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, 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 enamell'd stones, He overtaketh in his pilgrimage; |