To cross my friend in his intended drift,
Than, by concealing it, heap on your head
A pack of sorrows, which would press you
down,

Being unprevented, to your timeless grave.
Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest

care;

Which to requite, command me while I live.
This love of theirs myself have often seen,
Haply, when they have judg'd me fast asleep;
And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid
Sir Valentine her company, and my court;
But, fearing lest my jealous aim might err,
And so, unworthily disgrace the man,
(A rashness that I ever yet have shunn'd,)
gave him gentle looks; thereby to find
That which thyself hast now disclos'd to me.
And, that thou may'st perceive my fear of this,
Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested,
I nightly lodge her in an upper tower,
The key whereof myself have ever kept ;
And thence she cannot be convey'd away.

I

Nor fearing me as if I were her father:
And, may I say 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
I now am full resolv'd to take a wife, [duty,
And turn her out to who will take her in :
Then, let her beauty be her wedding-dower;
For me and my possessions she 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 she is nice, and coy,
And nought esteems my aged eloquence :
Now, therefore, 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,

Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a More than quick words, do move a woman's

mind. [sent her. Duke. But she did scorn a present that I Val. A woman sometimes scorns what best

contents her :

Send her another; never give her o'er ;
For scorn at first, makes after-love the more.
If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
But rather to beget more love in you:
If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone;
For why, the fools are mad, if left alone.
Take no repulse, whatever she doth say;
For, "Get you gone," she doth not mean,
Away!

How he her chamber-window will ascend,
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 so cunningly,
That my discovery be not aimed at ;
For love of you, not hate unto my friend,
Hath made me publisher of this pretence.
Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never
That I had any light from thee of this. [know
Pra. Adieu, my lord: Sir Valentine is com-
ing.
[Exit. Flatter and praise, commend, extol their
Enter Valentine.
graces;
[faces.
Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? Though ne'er so black, say they have angels'
Val. Please it your grace, there is a mes-That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man,

"

If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.
Duke. But she I mean is promis'd by her
friends

Unto a youthful gentleman of worth;
And kept severely from resort of men,
That no man hath access by day to her.
Val. Why then, I would resort to her by
night.
[kept safe,
Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock'd, and keys
That no man hath recourse to her by night."
Val. What lets, but one may enter at her

[ground,

window?
Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the
And built so shelving, that one cannot climb it
Without apparent hazard of his life. [cords,

Val. Why then, a ladder quaintly made of
To cast up, with a pair of anchoring hooks,
Would serve to scale another Hero's tower,
So bold Leander would adventure it. [blood,

Duke. Now, as thou art a gentleman of
Advise me where I may have such a ladder.
Val. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell
me that.
[child,
Duke. This very night; for Love is like a

That longs for everything that he can come by. Val. By seven o'clock I'll get you such a ladder.

Unless it be, to think that she is by,
And feed upon the shadow of perfection.
Except I be by Silvia in the night,
There is no music in the nightingale ;
Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
There is no day for me to look upon :
She is my essence; and I leave to be,
If I be not by her fair influence
[turn? Foster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive.
I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:
Tarry I here, I but attend on death;
But, fly I hence, I fly away from life.
Enter Proteus and Launce.

Duke. But hark thee; I will go to her alone:
How shall I best convey the ladder thither?
Val. It will be light, my lord, that you may
Under a cloak that is of any length. (bear it
Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the
Val. Ay, my good lord.
Duke.
Then, let me see thy cloak :
I'll get me one of such another length.
Val. Why, any cloak will serve the turn,
my lord.
[cloak?-
Duke. How shall I fashion me to wear a
I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.-
[Puts open Valentine's cloak.
What letter is this same? What's here ?-"To
Silvia !"

And here an engine fit for my proceeding!
I'll be so bold to break the seal for once.

[Reads. "My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly;

[fying:

And slaves they are to me, that send them O, could their master come and go as lightly, Himself would lodge, where senseless they [them;

are lying!

My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest
While I, their king, that thither them im-
portune,
[bless'd them,
Do curse the grace that with such grace hath
Because myself do want my servants' fortune:
I curse myself, for they are sent by me,

That they should harbour where their lord
should be."

What's here?

"Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee."
'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.---
Why, Phaeton, (for thou art Merops' son,)
Wilt thou aspire to guide the heav'nly car,
And with thy daring folly burn the world?
Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on
Go, base intruder! overweening slave! [thee?
Bestow thy fawning smiles 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 swiftest expedition

Will give thee time to leave our royal court,
By Heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the love
I ever bore my daughter or thyself.
Be gone! I will not hear thy vain excuse;
But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from
hence.
Exit.
Val. And why not death, rather than living

torment?

To die, is to be banish'd from myself;
And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her,
Is self from self; a deadly banishment!
What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?

That to close prison he commanded her,
With many bitter threats of biding there.

Val. No more; unless the next word that
thou speak'st

Have some malignant power upon my life:
If so, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear,
As ending anthem of my endless dolour.

Pro. Cease to lament for that thou canst
not help,

And study help for that which thou lament'st.
Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
Here if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love;
Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.
Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that,
And manage it against despairing thoughts.
Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence;
Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver'd
Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.
The time now serves not to expostulate :
Come, I'll convey thee through the city gate;
And, ere I part with thee, confer at large
Of all that may concern thy love-affairs.
As thou lov'st Silvia, though not for thyself,
Regard thy danger, and along with me.
Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest
my boy,
[gate.
Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north
Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out. Come,
Valentine.

Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather.
Launce. O, illiterate loiterer! it was the son
of thy grandmother. This proves, that thou
canst not read.
[paper.
Speed. Come, fool, come: try me in thy
Launce. There; and Saint Nicholas be thy
Speed. "Imprimis, She can milk." [speed!
Launce. Ay, that she can.

Speed. "Item, She brews good ale."
Launce. And thereof comes the proverb,--
Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale.
Speed. "Item, She can sew.'
[so?
Launce. That's as much as to say, Can she
Speed. "Item, She can knit."

Launce. What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when she can knit him a stock? Speed. "Item, She can wash and scour.' Launce. A special virtue; for then she need not be washed and scoured.

Speed. Item, She can spin."

Launce. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living.

Speed. "Item, She hath many nameless virtues."

Launce. That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have no names.

Speed. "Here follow her vices."

Launce. Close at the heels of her virtues. Speed. "Item, She is not to be kissed fasting, in respect of her breath."

Launce. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast. Read on.

Speed. "Item, She hath a sweet mouth." Launce. That makes amends for her sour breath.

Speed. "Item, She doth talk in her sleep."
Launce. It's no matter for that, so she sleep

Val. O my dear Silvia! Hapless Valentine! [Exeunt Valentine and Proteus. Launce. I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to think, my master is a kind of a knave but that's all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now, that knows me to be in love: yet I am in love; but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me, nor who 'tis I love; and yet 'tis a woman: but what woman, I will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milk-not in her talk. maid; yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips: yet 'tis a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages. She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel,-which is much in a bare Christian. [Pulling out a paper.] Here is the cat-log of her condition. [Reads.] "Imprims, She can fetch and carry." Why, a horse can do no more: nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore, is she better than a jade. Item, She can milk;" look

you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands. Enter Speed.

Speed. How now, Signior Launce! what news with your mastership? [at sea. Launce. With my master's ship? why, it is Speed. Well, your old vice still; mistake the word. What news, then, in your paper? Launce. The blackest news that ever thou Speed. Why, man, how black? [heardest. Launce. Why, as black as ink. Speed. Let me read them.

Launce. Fie on thee, jolt-head! thou canst Speed. Thou liest; I can. [not read. Launce. I will try thee. Tell me this: who begot thee?

Speed. "Item, She is slow in words." Launce. O villain, that set this down among her vices! To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue: I pray thee, out with't, and place it for her chief virtue.

Speed. "Item, She is proud."
Launce. Out with that too: it was Eve's
legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her.

Speed. "Item, She hath no teeth."
Launce. I care not for that neither, because
I love crusts.

Speed. "Item, She is curst." [to bite.
Launce. Well; the best is, she hath no teeth
Speed. "Item, She will often praise her
liquor."

Launce. If her liquor be good, she shall if she will not, I will; for good things should be praised.

Speed. "Item, She is too liberal." Launce. Of her tongue she cannot, for that's writ down she is slow of: of her purse she shall not, for that I'll keep shut now, of another thing she may, and that cannot I help. Well, proceed.

Speed. "Item, She hath more hair than wit,

and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults."

Launce. Stop there; I'll have her: she was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that last article. Rehearse that once more. [wit."

Speed. "Item, She hath more hair than Launce. More hair than wit,--it may be; I'll prove it the cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it is more than the salt; the hair, that covers the wit, is more than the wit, for the greater hides the less. What's next?

Speed." And more faults than hairs."Launce. That's monstrous: O, that that were out!

Speed.-"And more wealth than faults." Launce. Why, that word makes the faults gracious. Well, I'll have her; and if it be a match, as nothing is impossible,—

Speed. What then?

Launce. Why, then will I tell thee,—that thy master stays for thee at the north gate. Speed. For me!

Launce. For thee! ay; who art thou? he hath stayed for a better man than thee.

Speed. And must I go to him?

Launce. Thou must run to him, for thou hast stayed so long, that going will scarce serve the

turn.

Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner? pox of your love-letters. [Exit. Launce. Now will he be swing'd for reading my letter: an unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into secrets! I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction. [Exit. SCENE II.-Milan. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Enter Duke and Thurio.

The match between Sir Thurio and my daugh-
Pro. I do, my lord.
[ter.

Duke. And also, I think, thou art not ignor-
How she opposes her against my will. [ant
Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was
here.

Duke. Ay, and perversely she persévers so. What might we do to make the girl forget The love of Valentine, and love Sir Thurio?

Pro. The best way is, to slander Valentine With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent,Three things that women highly hold in hate. Duke. Ay, but she'll think that it is spoke in hate.

Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it: [spoken Therefore, it must with circumstance be By one whom she esteemeth as his friend.

Duke. Then you must undertake to slander

him.

Pro. And that, my lord, I shall be loth to 'Tis an ill office for a gentleman, [do: Especially against his very friend.

Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage him,

[do it,

Your slander never can endamage him ;
Therefore, the office is indifferent,
Being entreated to it by your friend.
Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord: if I can
By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not long continue love to him.
But say, this weed her love from Valentine,
It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio.
Thu. Therefore, as you unwind her love
from him,
Lest it should ravel and be good to none,
You must provide to bottom it on me ;
Which must be done, by praising me as much

Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will As you in worth dispraise Sir Valentine.

love you,

Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight.
Thu. Since his exile she hath despis'd me

most,

Forsworn my company, and rail'd at me,
That I am desperate of obtaining her. [figure
Duke. This weak impress of love is as a
Trenched in ice, which with an hour's heat
Dissolves to water, and doth lose his form.
A little time will melt her frozen thoughts,
And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.—
Enter Proteus.

How now, Sir Proteus! Is your countryman,
According to our proclamation, gone?
Pro. Gone, my good lord.
[ously.
Duke. My daughter takes his going griev-
Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief.
Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not
Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee, [so.
(For thou hast shown some sign of good desert,)
Makes me the better to confer with thee.

Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your
grace,

Let me not live to look upon your grace. Duke. Thou know'st, how willingly I would effect

Duke. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in
this kind,

Because we know, on Valentine's report,
You are already love's firm votary,
And cannot soon revolt, and change your mind.
Upon this warrant shall you have access
Where you with Silvia may confer at large;
For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy,
And, for your friend's sake, will be glad of
you;

[sion,
Where you may temper her, by your persua-
To hate young Valentine, and love my friend.
Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect :--
But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough;
You must lay lime to tangle her desires
By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes
Should be full fraught with serviceable vows.
Duke. Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred

poesy.

Pro. Say, that upon the altar of her beauty You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart.

Write, till your ink be dry, and with your

tears

Moist it again; and frame some feeling line
That may discover such integrity:

For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets'
sinews;
[stones,
Whose golden touch could soften steel and
Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans
Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.
After your dire lamenting elegies,
Visit by night your lady's chamber-window
With some sweet concert: to their instruments
Tune a deploring dump: the night's dead.
silence
[grievance.
Will well become such sweet complaining
This, or else nothing, will inherit her.

Duke. This discipline shows thou hast been
in love.
[practice:
Tha. And thy advice this night I'll put in
Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver,
Let us into the city presently,

To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music.
I have a sonnet that will serve the turn
To give the onset to thy good advice.
Duke. About it, gentlemen.

[rehearse :

2 Out. For what offence?
Val. For that which now torments me to
I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent;
But yet I slew him manfully, in fight,
Without false vantage or base treachery. [so.
1 Out. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done
But were you banish'd for so small a fault?
Val. I was, and held me glad of such a
2 Out. Have you the tongues? [doom.
Val. My youthful travel therein made me
Or else I often had been miserable. [happy.
3 Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's
fat friar,

This fellow were a king for our wild faction!
1 Out. We'll have him :-sirs, a word.
Speed.
Master, be one of them;
It is an honourable kind of thievery.
Val. Peace, villain!

[take to? 2 Out. Tell us this have you anything to Val. Nothing, but my fortune. [gentlemen, 3 Out. Know then, that some of us are

Pro. We'll wait upon your grace till after Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth

villains

That all the travellers do fear so much.
Val. My friends,-

[enemies. 1 Out. That's not so, sir; we are your 2 Out. Peace! we'll hear him.

3 Out. Ay, by my beard, will we; for he is a proper man.

Val. Then know, that I have little wealth A man I am, cross'd with adversity: [to lose. My riches are these poor habiliments,

Of which if you should here disfurnish me, You take the sum and substance that I have. 2 Out. Whither travel you?

Val. To Verona.

1 Out. Whence came you?
Val. From Milan.

3 Out. Have you long sojourn'd there?
Val. Some sixteen months; and longer

might have stay'd,

If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.
2 Out. What, were you banish'd thence?
Val. I was.

Thrust from the company of awful men :
Myself was from Verona banished
For practising to steal away a lady,
An heir, and near allied unto the duke.

2 Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Who, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart.

1 Out. And I, for such like petty crimes as
these.

But to the purpose; for we cite our faults,
That they may hold excus'd our lawless lives:
And, partly, seeing you are beautify'd
With goodly shape; and by your own report
A linguist, and a man of such perfection,
As we do in our quality much want,-

[man,

2 Out. Indeed, because you are a banish'd
Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you.
Are you content to be our general?
To make a virtue of necessity,
And live, as we do, in this wilderness?

3 Out. What say'st thou? wilt thou be of
our consort?

Say ay, and be the captain of us all :
We'll do thee homage, and be ruled by thee,
Love thee as our commander and our king.
I Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou
diest.
[have offer'd.

2 Out. Thou shalt not live to brag what we Val. I take your offer, and will live with you; Provided that you do no outrages

On silly women, or poor passengers. [tices.
3
Out. No; we detest such vile, base prac-
Come, go with us; we'll bring thee to our

cave,

And show thee all the treasure we have got ;
Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Milan. The Court of the
Palace. Enter Proteus.
Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine,
And now I must be as unjust to Thurio.
Under the colour of commending him,