Myself am one made privy to the plot.
I know, you have determin'd to bestow her
On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates:
And should fhe 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 prefs you down,
Being unprevented, to your timeless grave.

Duke. Protheus, I thank thee for thine honeft care;
Which to requite, command me while I live.
This love of theirs myself have often feen.
Haply, when they have judg'd me faft affeep;
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 thyself 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 afcend, 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 aimed at; 7 For love of you, not hate unto my friend, Hath made me publisher of this

7 Be not aim'd at.] Be not que fed.

pretence.

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.

S CENE II.

Enter Valentine.

[Exit Pro.

Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast?
Val. Please it your Grace, there is a meffenger
That stays 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, trust me; he is peevish, sullen, froward,

Proud, difobedient, stubborn, lacking duty;
Neither regarding that he 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, &
Whom I affect; but fhe 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 scorn a prefent, that I sent her. Val. A woman fometimes (corns what best contents

her;

Send her another; never give her o'er;

For fcorn at firft makes after-love the more.
If the 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 say;
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 lay, is no man,
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.
Duke. But the I mean, is promis'd by her friends

8 Sir, in Milan here.] It ought
to be thus, inflead of in Ve-
rona here
for the fcene ap-
parently is in Milan, as is clear
from feveral paffages in the first
Act, and in the beginning of the
firft Scene of the fourth Act. A
like mistake bas crept into the eighth

Scene of Act II. where Speed bids his fellow fervant Launce, welcome to Padua. POPE.

9 The fashion of the time.] The modes of courtship, the acts by which men recommended themfelves to ladies.

Unto

Unto a youthful gentleman of worth,
And kept severely from refort of men,
That no man hath access by day to her.

Val. Why then I would refort to her by night.
Duke. Ay, but the doors be lockt, and keys kept
fafe,

That no man hath recourfe 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 ule 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 seven 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 cloak 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

My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly,
And flaves they are to me, that fend them flying:
Oh, 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 hath bleft them,
Because myself do want my fervant's fortune ;
I curfe myself, for they are fent by me,

That they should harbour, where their lord would be.
What's here? Silvia, this night will I enfranchise thee:
'Tis fo, and here's the ladder for the purpose.
Why, Phaeton, for thou art Merops' 2 fon,
Wilt thou afpire to guide the heavenly car,
And with thy daring folly burn the world?
Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee?
Go, base intruder! over-weening flave!
Bestow thy fawning fmiles on equal mates;
And think, my patience, more than thy desert,
Is privilege for thy departure hence;

Thank me for this, more than for all the favours,
Which, all too much, I have bestow'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 thyfelf:

Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excuse,

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

I

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

[Exil.

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

SCENE