Sil. I thank you, gentle servant: 'is very clerkly done. Val. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off: For, being ignorant to whom it writ goes, at randoin, very doubttalty. Val. No, inadam, so it stead you, I will write, Val. What means your ladyship ? do you not Sil. Yes, yes; the lines are very quaintly writ: Val. Madam, they are for you. ther. Sil. And, when it's writ, for my sake read it over: And, if it please you, so; if not, why, so. My master sues to her; and she hath taught her suitor, He being her pupil, to become her tutor. ACT 11. ment; O, be not like your mistress; be moved. be moved. Ereunt SCENE II. Verona. A Roomin Julia's House Enter Proteus and Julia. Pro. Have; atience, gentle Julia. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. A street. O excellent device! was there ever heard a bettens to the Imperial's court. ter 7 That my master, being scribe, to himself should write the letter 7 Val. How now, sir? what are you reasoning Speed. Nay, I was rhyming; 'tis you that have Val. To do what? Speerd. To be a spokesman from madam Silvia. Speed. To yourself; why, she woos you by a figure. Val. What 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 verite to yourself? Why, do you not percei e the jest? Val. No, believe me. Speed. No believing you indeed, sir: But did you perceive her earnestl Val. She gave me none, except in angry word. there an end. Val. I would, it were no worse. Speed. 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 unto her hver. Enter Launce, leading a Dog. weeping, all the kind of the Launces have this Laun. Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done very fault: I have received my proportion, like the proligions son, and am going with sir Promother weeping, my father wailing, my sister dog be the sonrest-natured dog that lives; my I think, Crab my hands, and all our house in a great crying, our maid howling, our cat cat wringing her he is a stone, a very pebble stone, and has no vet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear: Le-lexity, more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have dam having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind wept to have seen our parting; why, my granof it: This shoe is my father:-no, this left shoe at my parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner 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, father: A vengeance on't! with the hole in it, is my mother; and this iny this staff is my sister; for look you, she is an now, sir, white as a lily, and as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog:-no, the dog is hintself, and I am the dog;-oh, the dog is my father: Father, your blessing; now should and I am myself: Ay, 80, 80. is me, so. Now come I to not the shoe speak a word for weeping: now now come I to my mother, ( that she could should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on : there 'tis: ORUS All this I speak inprint: for in print I found it-man) Away, ass; you will lose the tide, if you Why mur you sir 7 'tis dinner-time. Val. I have dined. Sperd. Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and would Lain have! tarry any longer. Laur. It's no matter if the ty'd were lost; for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever any man ty'd. Pan. What's the unkindest tide ? Laun. Why, he that's ty'd here: Crab, my dog. Pan. In thy tail? fancy Laun. For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue. Pan. Where should I lose my tongue ? Laur. Love the tide, and the voyage, and the We have convers'd, and spent our hours together: master, and the service: And the tole!-Why, And though myseif have been an ille truant, man, if the river were dry, I am able to fill it Omitting the sweet benefit of time, with my tears; if the wind were down, I could To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection; drive the hoat with my siglia Yet hath Sir Proteus. for that's his name, Pan Come, come away, man; I was sent to Marde ise and fair advantage of his days; call thee. Laun. Sir, call me what thou darest. Pan. Wiit thou go? Laun. Well, I will go. His years but young, but his experience experience old; SCENE IV. Milan. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Enter Valentine, Silvia, Thurio, and Speed. Sil. Servant you begin. Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off. Val. "Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver. Sil. Who is that, servant ? Val. Yourself, sweet lady for you gave the fire: Sir Thirio 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 hare 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 he thankful To any happy messenger, from thence. uyman 1 Duke. Kuow you Don Antonio, your coun good, Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman. Val. Welcome, Welcome, dear Proteus 1-Mistress, seech you, I be Confirm his welcome with some special favour. Sil. Flis worth is warrant for his welcorne hither. If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from. No; that you are worthless. Ser. Madam, my lord your father would speak with you. Sil. I'll wait upon his pleasure. Erit Ser. Come, Sir Thurio, 24 come: TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. Go with me:-Once more, new servant, wel- Exeunt Silvia, Thurio, and Speed 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 7 and how thrives your love? Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you; hts have punish'd me Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now; And made them watchers of mine own heart's O, gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord; And hath so humbled me, as, I must confess, Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth! Now can I break my Upon the very naked name of love. fast, dine, suр, and sleep, Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye: Vat. Even she: and is she not a heavenly saint ? Pro. I will not flatter her. Val. O, flatter ine; for love delights in praises, ACT IL In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel. Erit Val. Pro. I will- newer object quite for to gotten. Her true perfection, or my false transgression, SCENE V. The same. A Street. Enter Speed and Launce. Milan. Laur. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth; for I am not welcome. I reckon this always that never welcome to a place, till some certain shot a man is never undone, till he be hanged; nor Pro When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills; be paid, and the hostess say, welcome. And I must minister the like to you Yet let her be a principality, Val. Sweet, except not any. Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is Laun. Marry, thus; when it stands well with Speed. What, are they broken? Laun. No, they are both as whole as a fish. Speed. Why then, how stands the matter with them? this him, it stands well with her. Val. Pardon me, Proteus: all 1 can, is no thing Speed. What an ass art thou! I understand thee not. Loun. What a block art thou, that thou canst thing; not ? My staff understands me. Speed. What thou say'st? To her, whose worth makes other worthies no She is alone. Pro. Then let her alone. Val. Not for the world: why, man, she is Laun. Ay, and what I do too look thee, I' Speed. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistakest me. Laun. Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy master. Speed. I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover. Laun. Why, I tell thee, I care not though he burn himself in love. If thou wilt go with me to the ale-house, so; if not, thou art a Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian. Speed. Why? 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. [Ezeunt 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 threefold perjury. Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken; If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; love is still most precious in itself: For love Jul. O, know'st thou not, his looks are my soul's food? Pity the dearth that I have pined in, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. burns; The current, that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage; : nooks he atrays, But, when his fair course is not hindered, Luc. But in what habit will you go along 1 Luc. Why then your ladyship must cut your hair. Jul. That fits as well, as-" tell me, good my lord, What compass will you wear your farthingale ?" Why, even what fashion thou best lik'st, Lucetta. And Silvia, witness heaven, that made her fair! Luc. You must needs have them with a cod. Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope. I will forget that Julia is alive, I cannot now prove constant to myself, By some sly trick, blunt Thurio's dull proceed. Enter Julia and Lucetta. Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me! And, e'en in kind love, I do conjure thee;Who art the table wherein all my thoughts Are visibly character'd and engrav'd, o lesson me; and tell me some good mean, How, with my honour, I may undertake A Journey to my loving Proteus. Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long. Jul. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps; Much less shall she, that that hath love's wings το And when the flight is made to one so dear, Of such divine perfection, as Sir Proteus. Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return. Jul. Nay, that I will not. like Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go. ۱۲ Proteus your journey, when yo you come, No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone: I fear me, he will scarce be pleas'd withal. Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear: A thousand oaths, au ocean of his tears, And instances of infinite of love, Warrant me welcome to my Protens. Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men. Jul Base men, that use them to so bare effect But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth: His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles; His love sincere, his thoughts inumaculate; His tears, pure messengers sent from his heart; His heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth. Luc. Pray heaven, he prove so, when you 'Tis not unknown to thee that I have sought To match my friend, Sir Thymic, to my daughter. Val. I know it well, my lord; and, sure, the match come to him! Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that fly; To bear a hard opinion of his truth; man Khow, worthy prince, Sir Valentine, my friend, This night intends to steal away your daughter; Myself am one made privy to the plot. I know you have determined to bestow her On Thario, whom your gentle daughter hates; care; Which to requite, command me while I live. And thence she cannot be convey'd away. Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentlo 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; she is peevish, sullen, fro ward, 1 now am full resolv'd to take a wife, Val. What would your grace have me to do in this 7 Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan, here, Whom I affect; but she is nice, and coy, And nought esteems my aged eloquence: Now, therefore, won would I have thee to my tutor, (For long agone I have forgot to court: Besides, the fashion of the time is chang'd ;) How, and which way, I may bestow myself, To be regarded in her sun-bright eye. 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; faces. That man that hath a tongue. I say, is no man. Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devised a If with his tongue he cannot win a woman. mean How he her chamber-window will ascend, And with a corded ladder fetch her down; For which the youthful lover now is gone, For love of you, not hate unto my friend, Pro. Adieu, my lord; Sir Valentine is coming. [Erit. 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. But she, I mean, is promis'd by her friends Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground; And built so shelving that cannot climb it Without apparent hazard of his life. Val. Why then, a ladderquaintly 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 thon art a gentleman of blood, Advise me where I may have such a ladder. Val. When would you use it 7 pray, sir, tell Duke. This very night; for love is like a child, Duke. Nay, then no matter; stay with me a That longs for every thing that he can oune by while; I am to break with thee of some affairs, me that. der. That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret. Duta But, hark thee; I will go to her alone |