Imatges de pàgina
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That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, with his tongue he cannot win a woman. Duke. But she, I mean, is promis'd by her friends into a youthful gentleman of worth; And kept severely from resort of men, That no man hath access by day to her.

Fel. Why then I would resort to her by night. Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock'd, and keys kept safe,

That no man hath recourse 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 so shelving, that one cannot climb it Without apparent hazard of his life.

Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excuse,
But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence.
[Exit DUKE.
Val. And why not death, rather than living tor-
ment?

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?
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 musick in the nightingale ;

Fal. Why then, a ladder, quaintly made of cords, Unless I look on Silvia in the day,

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 thou art a gentleman of blood, Advise me where I may have such a ladder.

Fal. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell me

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[Reads.

Duke. How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak?I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me. What letter is this same? What's here?- To Silvia? And here an engine fit for my proceeding! Pl be so bold to break the seal for once. My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly; And slaves they are to me, that send them flying: O, could their master come and go as lightly, Himself would lodge, where senseless they are lying. My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them; While I, their king, that thither them impórtune, De curse the grace that with such grace hath bless'd

them,

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?

Saria, 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 heavenly car,
And with thy daring folly burn the world?
Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee?
Go, base intruder! over-weening slave!
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.

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
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.

Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out.
Laun. So-ho! so-ho!

Pro. What seest thou?

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Pro. That thou art banished, O, that's the news; From hence, from Silvia, and from me thy friend.

Val. O, I have fed upon this woe already, And now excess of it will make me surfeit. Doth Silvia know that I am banished?

Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom, (Which, unrevers'd, stands in effectual force,) A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears: Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd; With them, upon her knees, her humble self; Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became

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Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears,
Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire;
But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die.
Besides, her intercession chaf'd him so,
When she for thy repeal was suppliant,
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 I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear,

As ending anthem of my endless dolour.

Pro. Cease to lament for that thou can'st 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, Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north-gate. Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine. Val. O my dear Silvia, hapless Valentine!

[Exeunt VALENTINE and PROTEeus. Laun. I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to think, my master is a kind of 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 that woman, I will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milkmaid; 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. Here is the cat-log [Pulling out a paper.] of her conditions. Imprimis, 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?

Laun. With my master's ship? why it is at sea. Speed. Well, your old vice still; mistake the word: What news then in your paper?

Laun. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st.
Speed. Why, man, how black?
Laun. Why as black as ink.
Speed. Let me read them.

Laun. Fye on thee, jolt-head; thou canst not read.
Speed. Thou liest, I can.

Laun. I will try thee: Tell me this: Who begot

thee?

Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather.

Laun. O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy grandmother: this proves, that thou canst not read. Speed. Come, fool, come: try me in thy paper. Laun. Thore; and St. Nicholas be thy speed!

Speed. Imprimis, She can milk.
Laun. Ay, that she can.

Speed. Item, She brews good ale.
Laun. And thereof comes the proverb,
ing of your heart, you brew good ale.
Speed. Item, She can sew.

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Laun. That's as much as to say, can she so?
Speed. Item, She can knit.

Laun. What need a man care for a stock with wench, when she can knit him a stock.

Speed. Item, She can wash and scour.

Laun. A special virtue; for then she need n be washed and scoured.

Speed. Item, She can spin.

Laun. Then may I set the world on whee when she can spin for her living.

Speed. Item, She hath many nameless virtues. Laun. That's as much as to say, bastard virtue that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefo have no names.

Speed. Here follow her vices.

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

Laun. Well, that fault may be mended with breakfast: Read on.

Speed. Item, She hath a sweet mouth.

Laun. That makes amends for her sour breath Speed. Item, She doth talk in her sleep.

Laun. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not her talk.

Speed. Item, She is slow in words.

Laun. O villain, that set this down among h vices! To be slow in words, is a woman's only vi tue: I pray thee, out with't; and place it for h chief virtue.

Speed. Item, She is proud.

Laun. Out with that too; it was Eve's legac and cannot be ta'en from her.

Speed. Item, She hath no teeth.

Laun. I care not for that neither, because I lo

crusts.

Speed. Item, She is curst.

Laun. Well; the best is, she hath no teeth to bit Speed. She will often praise her liquor.

Laun. If her liquor be good, she shall if s will not, I will; for good things should be praise Speed. Item, She is too liberal.

Laun. Of her tongue she cannot; for that's w down she is slow of: of her purse she shall no for that I'll keep shut: now of another thing s may; and that I cannot help. Well, proceed.

Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit, a more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults. Laun. Stop there; I'll have her she was min and not mine, twice or thrice in that last articl Rehearse that once more.

Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit,

Laun. More hair than wit, it may be; I prove it: The cover of the salt hides the salt, a therefore it is more than the salt; the hair tl covers the wit, is more than the wit; for the grea hides the less. What's next?

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Lown. For thee? ay: who art thou? he hath staid for a better man than thee.

Speed. And must I go to him?

Lass. Thou must run to him, for thou hast staid so long, that going will scarce serve the turn. Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner? 'pox of your love letters! [Exit. Lawn. Now will he be swinged for reading my letter: An unmannerly slave, that will thrust him¡self into secrets! — I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's currection. [Exit. SCENE II.- The same. A Room in the Duke's

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Palace.

Enter DUKE and THURIO; PROTEUS behind. Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not, but that she will love you, New Valentine is banish'd from her sight.

Thu. Smce his exile she hath despis'd me most, Forsworn my company, and rail'd at me, That I am desperate of obtaining her.

Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure 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. How now, sir Proteus? Is your countryman, According to our proclamation, gone? Pra. Gone, my good lord.

Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously. Pre. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief. Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so.Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee, (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 The match between sir Thurio and my daughter. Pru. I do, my lord.

Dake. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant How she opposes her against my will.

Po. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here.
Duke. Ay, and perversely she persévers so.
What might we do, to make the girl förget
The love of Valentine, and love sir Thurio?
P. The best way is, to slander Valentine.
With falshood, cowardice, and poor descent;
Three things that women highly hold in hate.
Duke. Ay, but she'll think, that it is spoke in hate.
PrAy, if his enemy deliver it :

Therefore it must, with circumstance, be spoken
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 do:
'Tis an ill office for a gentleman;
Especially, against his very friend.

Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage him,

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 do it,
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
As you in worth dispraise sir Valentine.

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; Where you may temper her, by your persuasion, 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 the force of heaven-bred poesy.
Pro. Say, that upon the altar of her beauty
You sacrifice your teafs, 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;
Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,
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
Will well become such sweet complaining grievance.
This, or else nothing, will inherit her.

Duke. This discipline shows thou hast been in love.

Thu. And thy advice this night I'll put in practice.
Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver,
Let us into the city presently

To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in musick:
I have a sonnet that will serve the turn,

To give the onset to thy good advice.
Duke. About it, gentlemen.

Pro. We'll wait upon your grace, till after supper; And afterward determine our proceedings.

Duke. Even now about it; I will pardon you.

[Exeunt.

A

SCENE I.-A Forest, near Mantua.

Enter certain Out-laws.

ACT IV.

1 Out. Fellows, stand fast; I see a passenger. 2 Out. If there be ten, shrink not, but down with 'em.

Enter VALENTINE and SPEED.

That they may hold excus'd our lawless lives,)
And, partly, seeing you are beautified
With goodly shape; and by your own report
A linguist; and a man of such perfection,
As we do in our quality much want;-

2 Out. Indeed, because you are a banish'd man,
Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you:
Are you content to be our general?

3 Out. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have To make a virtue of necessity,

about you;

If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you.

Speed. Sir, we are undone! these are the villains That all the travellers do fear so much.

Val. My friends, —

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

3 Out. Ay, by my beard, will we;

For he's a proper man.

Val. Then know, that I have little wealth to lose;

A man I am, crossed with adversity:
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 staid,

lf crooked fortune had not thwarted me.

1 Out. What, were you banish'd thence? Val. I was.

2 Out. For what offence?

Val. For that which now torments me to re

hearse :

I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent;
But yet I slew him manfully in fight,
Without false vantage, or base treachery.

1 Out. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so: But were you banish'd for so small a fault?

Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doom. 1 Out. Have you the tongues?

Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy; Or else I often had been miserable.

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!

2 Out. Tell us this: Have you any thing to take to? Val. Nothing, but my fortune.

3 Out. Know then, that some of us are gentle

men,

Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth

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

2 Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Whom, 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,

And live, as we do, in this wilderness?

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

Say, ay, and be the captain of us all :
We'll do thee homage, and be rul'd by thee,
Love thee as our commander, and our king.

1 Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. 2 Out. Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offer'd.

Val. I take your offer, and will live with you; Provided that you do no outrages

On silly women, or poor passengers.

3 Out. No, we detest such vile base practices. Come, go with us, we'll bring thee to our crews, And shew thee all the treasure we have got; Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Milan. 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,
I have access my own love to prefer;
But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy,
To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.
When I protest true loyalty to her,

She twits me with my falshood to my friend:
When to her beauty I commend my vows,
She bids me think, how I have been forsworn
In breaking faith with Julia whom I lov'd:
And, notwithstanding all her sudden quips,
The least whereof would quell a lover's hope,
Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love,
The more it grows, and fawneth on her still.
But here comes Thurio: now must we to her window,
And give some evening musick to her ear.

Enter THURIO and Musicians.

Thu. How now, sir Proteus? are you crept before us?

Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio; for, you know, that

love

Will creep in service where it cannot go.

Thu. Ay, but, I hope, sir, that you love not here. Pro. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence. Thu. Whom? Silvia?

Pro. Ay, Silvia, -for your sake.

Thu. I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemer, Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile.

Enter Host, at a distance; and JULIA in boy's clothes.

Host. Now, my young guest! methinks you're allycholly; I pray you, why is it?

Jul. Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry. Host. Come, we'll have you merry: I'll bring you

where you shall hear musick, and see the gentleman that you ask'd for.

Jul. But shall I hear him speak?
Hest. Ay, that you shall.

Jul. That will be musick.
Hest. Hark! hark!
Jud. Is he among these?

Pro

That I may compass yours.

Sil. You have your wish; my will is even this,-
That presently you hie you home to bed.
Thou subtle, perjur'd, false, disloyal man!

[Musick plays. Think'st thou, I am so shallow, so conceitless,
To be seduced by thy flattery,

Hast. Ay: but peace, let's hear 'em.

SONG.

Who is Silvia? what is she,

That all our swains commend her?
Holy, fair, and wise is she,

The heavens such grace did lend her,
That she might admired be.

Is the kind, as she is fair?

For beauty lives with kindness :
Love doth to her eyes repair,

To help him of his blindness;
And, being help'd, inhabits there.
Then to Silvia let us sing,

That Silvia is excelling;

She excels each mortal thing,

Upon the dull earth dwelling:
To her let us garlands bring.

Host. How now? are you sadder than you were before?

How do you, man? the musick likes you not. Jul. You mistake; the musician likes me not. Heat. Why, my pretty youth?

Jul. He plays false, father.

Hast. How? out of tune on the strings?

That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows?
Return, return, and make thy love amends.
For me,―by this pale queen of night I swear,
I am so far from granting thy request,
That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit;
And by and by intend to chide myself,
Even for this time I spend in talking to thee.
Pro. I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady;
But she is dead.

Jul. 'Twere false, if I should speak it;
For, I am sure, she is not buried.

[Aside.

Sil. Say, that she be; yet Valentine, thy friend, Survives; to whom, thyself art witness,

I am betroth'd: And art thou not asham'd

To wrong him with thy importúnacy?

Pro. I likewise hear, that Valentine is dead, Sil. And so, suppose, am I; for in his grave Assure thyself, my love is buried.

Pro. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth. Sil. Go to thy lady's grave, and call her's thence; Or, at the least, in her's sepulchre thine.

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Pro. Madam, if your heart be so obdúrate, Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love, The picture that is hanging in your chamber; To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep: For, since the substance of your perfect self Is else devoted, I am but a shadow;

Jul. Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my And to your shadow I will make true love. very heart-strings.

Heat. You have a quick ear.

Jai. Ay, I would I were deaf! it makes me have a slow heart.

Host. I perceive, you delight not in musick.
Jul. Not a whit, when it jars so.

Has. Hark, what fine change is in the musick!
Jul. Ay; that change is the spite.

Host. You would have them always play but one thing?

Jul. I would always have one play but one thing. But, host, doth this sir Proteus, that we talk on, often resort unto this gentlewoman?

Host. I tell you what Launce, his man, told me, he loved her out of all nick.

Jul. Where is Launce?

Host. Gone to seek his dog; which, to-morrow, by his master's command, he must carry for a present to his lady.

Jul. Peace! stand aside! the company parts. Pre. Sir Thurio, fear not you! I will so plead, you shall say, my cunning drift excels.

That

The. Where meet we?

Pre. At saint Gregory's well.

Thu. Farewell. [Exeunt THURIO and Musicians.

SILVIA appears above, at her window.

Pro. Madam, good even to your ladyship.

I thank you for your musick, gentlemen': Who is that, that spake?

Pr. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth, You'd quickly learn to know him by his voice. S. Sir Proteus, as I take it.

Pre. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. What is your will?

Jul. If 'twere a substance, you would, sure, deceive it,

And make it but a shadow, as I am.

[Aside.

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Egl. This is the hour that madam Silvía
Entreated me to call, and know her mind;
There's some great matter she'd employ me in.
Madam, madam!

SILVIA appears above, at her window.
Sil. Who calls?
Egl.

Your servant, and your fiend,
One that attends your ladyship's command.
Sil. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good-morrow
Egl. As many, worthy lady, to yourself.
According to your ladyship's impose,

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