SCENE I. Verona. An open place. Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS. Think on thy Proteus, when thou haply seest When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy dan Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. Val. So, by your circumstance, I fear you'll prove. 40 Pro. 'Tis love you cavil at: I am not Love. Val. Love is your master, for he masters you: And he that is so yoked by a fool, Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise. Pro. Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud The eating canker dwells, so eating love Inhabits in the finest wits of all. 50 Val. And writers say, as the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by love the young and tender wit Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the bud, Losing his verdure even in the prime And all the fair effects of future hopes. But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee That art a votary to fond desire? Once more adieu! my father at the road Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd. Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. Val. Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave. 60 To Milan let me hear from thee by letters If lost, why then a grievous labour won; However, but a folly bought with wit, Or else a wit by folly vanquished. Pro. Why, couldst thou perceive so much from An if the shepherd be a while away. Speed. You conclude that my master is a shep- her? herd then and I a sheep? Pro. I do. Speed. Why then, my horns are his horns, whether I wake or sleep. 80 Pro. A silly answer and fitting well a sheep. stance. Pro. It shall go hard but I'll prove it by another. Speed. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks not me: therefore I am no sheep. 91 Pro. The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd; the shepherd for food follows not the sheep: thou for wages followest thy master; thy master for wages follows not thee: therefore thou art a sheep. Speed. Such another proof will make me cry 'baa.' Pro. But, dost thou hear? gavest thou my letter to Julia? 100 Speed. Ay, sir: I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, a laced mutton, and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a lost mutton, nothing for my labour. Pro. Here's too small a pasture for such store of muttons. Speed. If the ground be overcharged, you were best stick her. Pro. Nay: in that you are astray, 'twere best pound you. 110 Speed. Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your letter. Pro. You mistake; I mean the pound,-a pinfold. Speed. From a pound to a pin? fold it over and over, "Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover. Pro. But what said she? Pro. Nod-Ay-why, that's noddy. 122 Speed. Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for your pains. Pro. No, no; you shall have it for bearing the letter. Speed. Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you. Pro. Why, sir, how do you bear with me? Speed. Marry, sir, the letter, very orderly; having nothing but the word 'noddy' for my pains. Pro. Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit. Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse. Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief: what said she? Speed. Open your purse, that the money and the matter may be both at once delivered. Pro. Well, sir, here is for your pains. What said she? 140 Speed. Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her. Speed. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no, not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter: and being so hard to me that brought your mind, I fear she'll prove as hard to you in telling your mind. Give her no token but stones; for she's as hard as steel. Pro. What said she? nothing? 150 Speed. No, not so much as "Take this for thy pains. To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testerned me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself: and so, sir, I'll commend you to my master. Pro. Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wreck, 160 Which cannot perish having thee aboard, Jul. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love? Luc. Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheedfully. Jul. Of all the fair resort of gentlemen That every day with parle encounter me, In thy opinion which is worthiest love? Luc. Please you repeat their names, I'll show my mind According to my shallow simple skill. Jul. What think'st thou of the fair Sir Egla mour? II Luc. As of a knight well-spoken, neat and fine; But, were I you, he never should be mine. Jul. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio? Luc. Well of his wealth; but of himself, so so. Jul. What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus? Luc. Lord, Lord! to see what folly reigns in us! Jul. How now! what means this passion at his name? Luc. Pardon, dear madam: tis a passing shame That I, unworthy body as I am, Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen. Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest? Luc. Then thus: of many good I think him best. Jul. Your reason? Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason; I think him so because I think him so. Jul. And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him? Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast 50 It were a shame to call her back again 60 I would it were, That you might kill your stomach on your meat And not upon your maid. Jul. What is't that you took up so gingerly? Jul. Why didst thou stoop, then? 71 Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns. Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns, Unless it have a false interpreter. Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme. Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune. Give me a note: your ladyship can set. 81 Fal. As little by such toys as may be possible. Best sing it to the tune of 'Light o' love." Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune. Jul. Heavy! belike it hath some burden then? Luc. Ay, and melodious were it, would you sing it. No, madam; it is too sharp. You, minion, are too saucy. Luc. Nay, now you are too flat And mar the concord with too harsh a descant: There wanteth but a mean to fill your song. Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly bass. Luc. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus. me. 100 Here is a coil with protestation! [Tears the letter. To be so anger'd with another letter. [Exit. Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same! O hateful hands, to tear such loving words! 121 And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss. He couples it to his complaining names. Luc. What, shall these papers lie like telltales here? Jul. If you respect them, best to take them up. Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down: Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold. I see things too, although you judge I wink. Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO. Ant. Tell me, Punthino, what sad talk was that Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pan. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. Ant. Why, what of him? Pan. He wonder'd that your lordship Would suffer him to spend his youth at home, While other men, of slender reputation, Put forth their sons to seek preferment out: He said that Proteus your son was meet, Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that Whereon this month I have been hammering. 20 Pan. 'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither: There shall he practise tilts and tournaments, 30 Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen, And be in eye of every exercise Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth. Ant. I like thy counsel; well hast thou advised: And that thou mayst perceive how well I like it I will dispatch him to the emperor's court. With other gentlemen of good esteem 40 Ant. Good company; with them shall Pro teus go: And, in good time! now will we break with him. Pro. There is no news, my lord, but that he writes How happily he lives, how well beloved Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish. 70 1 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. [Exeunt Ant, and Pan. Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire for fear of burning, 80 And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd. The uncertain glory of an April day, Re-enter PANTHINO. Pan. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you: ACT II. SCENE I. Milan. The DUKE's palace. Enter VALENTINE and Speed. Val. is but one. Val. Ha! let me see: ay, give it me, it's mine: Speed. Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia ! Speed. She is not within hearing, sir. Speed. Your worship, sir; or else I mistook. 10 Val. Go to, sir: tell me, do you know Madam Silvia? Speed. She that your worship loves? you have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreathe your arms, like a malecontent; to relish a lovesong, like a robin-red breast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a schoolboy 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. They are all perceived without ye. Val. Without me? they cannot. 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 foilies 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 Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet knowest her not? Speed. Is she not hard-favoured, sir? Speed. That she is not so fair as, of you, well favoured. Val, I mean that her beauty is exquisite, but her favour infinite. 60 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? Í account of her beauty. Speed. You never saw her since she was deformed. Val. How long hath she been deformed? 70 Speed. Ever since you loved her. 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. Val. Why? 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? 80 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: Speed. [Aside] O, give ye good even! here's i a million of manners. Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand. Speed. [Aside] 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. 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; Speed. [Aside] And yet you will; and yet another 'yet.' 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. 130 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. And so, good morrow, servant. [Exit. 140 My master sues to her, and she hath taught her suitor, |