SCENE,-Sometimes in VERONA, sometimes in MILAN, and on the frontiers of MANTUA. ACT I SCENE I-An open Place in VERONA. Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS. Than living dully sluggardised at home, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness. But, since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein, Even as I would, when I to love begin. Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu! Think on thy Proteus, when thou, haply, seest Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel: Wish me partaker in thy happiness, When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger, Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers, Val. And on a love-book pray for my success. Pro. Upon some book I love, I'll pray for thee. Val. That's on some shallow story of deep love, How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont. Pro. That's a deep story of a deeper love; For he was more than over shoes in love. Fal. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love, And yet you never swam the Hellespont. Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots. Val. No, I'll not, for it boots thee not. Pro. What? Val. To be In love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks, With beart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth, With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights: If haply won, perhaps, a hapless gain : If lost, why then a grievous labour won; However, but a folly bought with wit, Or else a wit by folly vanquished. Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. Val. So, by your circumstance, I fear you'll prove. 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 Val. And writers say, As the most forward bud Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. At Milan, let me hear from thee by letters, Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan! Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love: He leaves his friends, to dignify them more; Enter SPEED. Speed. Sir Proteus, save you saw you my master? Pro. But now he parted hence, to embark for Milan. Speed. Twenty to one, then, he is shipp'd already; And I have play'd the sheep in losing him. Pro. Indeed a sheep doth very often stray, An if the shepherd be a while away. Speed. You conclude that my master is a shepherd, then, and I a sheep? Pro. I do. Speed. Why, then, my horns are his horns, whether I wake or sleep. Pro. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep. Speed. This proves me still a sheep. Pro. True; and thy master a shepherd. Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance. 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. 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? gav'st thou my letter to Julia? 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 a 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. 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? did she nod? [SPEED nods. Speed. I. Pro. Nod, I? why, that's noddy. Speed. You mistook, Sir: I say, she did nod: and you ask me, if she did nod: and I say, I. Pro. And that set together, is-noddy. 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? 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 her mind. Give her no token but stones; for she's as hard as steel. Pro. What, said she nothing? Speed. No, not so much as-"Take this for thy pains." To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testern'd 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; Which cannot perish, having thee aboard, Being destined to a drier death on shore:I must go send some better messenger; I fear, my Julia would not deign my lines, Jul. Why shouldst thou stoop, then? Luc. Nothing concerning me. 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. Receiving them from such a worthless post. [Exeunt. Give me a note: your ladyship can set. SCENE II.-The same. Garden of JULIA's House. Enter JULIA and LUCETTA. 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. That every day with parle encounter me, Luc. Please you, repeat their names, I'll shew my According to my shallow simple skill. [mind Jul. What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour? 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. 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. Peruse this paper, Madam. Luc That the contents will shew. Jul Say, say; who gave it thee? [Proteus: Luc. Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from And you an officer fit for the place. Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate. [Exit. Jul. And yet, I would I had o'erlook'd the letter. Which they would have the profferer construe "Ay." When inward joy enforced my heart to smile! Re-enter LUCETTA. Luc. What would your ladyship? Jul. Is it near dinner-time? Jul. As little by such toys as may be possible: Jul. Heavy? belike, it hath some burden, then. Luc. I cannot reach so high. Jul. Let's see your song:-How now, minion? Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out: And yet, methinks, I do not like this tune. Jul. You do not? Luc. No, Madam; it is too sharp. Luc. Nay, now you are too flat, And mar the concord with too harsh a descant: Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base. [Tears the letter. [pleased Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie: [Exit. Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same! I throw thy name against the bruising stones, Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away, He couples it to his complaining names: Re-enter LUCETTA. Luc. Madam, dinner's ready, and your father stays. Jul. Well, let us go. Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales 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. Jul. I see, you have a month's mind to them. Luc. Ay, Madam, you may say what sights you see; [Exeunt. I see things too, although you judge I wink. Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that, Pan. He wonder'd that your lordship Some, to the studious universities. For any, or for all these exercises, He said, that Proteus, your son, was meet, To let him spend his time no more at home, And did request me to importune you, Which would be great impeachment to his age, In having known no travel in his youth. Ant. Nor need'st thou much impórtune me to that, Whereon this month I have been hammering. I have consider'd well his loss of time; And perfected by the swift course of time: Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him? Ant. I know it well. Pan. 'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him There shall he practise tilts and tournaments, [thither: 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: I will despatch him to the emperor's court. Pan. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso, With other gentlemen of good esteem, Are journeying to salute the emperor, And to commend their service to his will. Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go: And, in good time,-now will we break with him. Enter PROTEUS. Pro. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart; Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn: O, that our fathers would applaud our loves, To seal our happiness with their consents! O heavenly Julia! Ant. How now? what letter are you reading there? Pro. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two Of commendation sent from Valentine, Deliver'd by a friend that came from him. Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news. Pro. There is no news, my lord; but that he writes How happily he lives, how well beloved, And daily graced by the emperor; Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune. Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish? I am resolved, that thou shalt spend some time To-morrow be in readiness to go: Excuse it not, for I'm peremptory. 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: To hasten on his expedition. [Exeunt ANT. and PAN. The uncertain glory of an April day; Pan. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you; Pro. Why, this it is! my heart accords thereto; And yet a thousand times it answers, no. [Exeunt. ACT II SCENE 1.-MILAN. An Apartment in the DUKE's Palace. Enter VALENTINE and SPEED. Speed. Sir, your glove. Val. Not mine; my gloves are on. Speed. Why, then, this may be yours, for this is but one. Speed. Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia! Speed. She is not within hearing, Sir. Val. Why, Sir, who bade you call her? Speed. Your worship, Sir; or else I mistook. Val. Well, you'll still be too forward. Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow. Val. Why, how know you that I am in love?' Speed. Marry, by these special marks: first, you nave learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreath your arms like a maicontent; to relish a love-song, like a robinred-breast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a schoolboy that had lost his A BC; 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. Without you? nay, that's certain, for, without you were so simple, none else would: but you are so without these follies, that these follies are within you, and shine through you like the water in a 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? Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet know'st her not? Speed. Is she not hard-favoured, Sir? Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) wellfavoured. Val. I mean, that her beauty is exquisite, but her favour infinite. 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 esteem'st thou me? I account of her beauty. Speed. You never saw her since she was deformed. 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. Speed. Because love is blind. O, that you had mine eyes; or your own had the lights they were wont to have, when you chid at Sir Proteus for going ungartered! Val. What should I see, then? 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: I thank you, you swinged me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you for yours. Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her. Speed. I would you were set; so your affection would cease. Speed. O, 'give you good even! Here's a million of [Aside. manners. Si. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand. Speed. He should give her interest; and she gives it him. [Aside. Val. As you enjoin'd me, I have writ your letter 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;And yet take this again;-and yet I thank you; Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more. Speed. And yet you will; and yet another yet. [Aside. 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. Sil. Ay, ay; you writ them, Sir, at my request; I would have had them writ more movingly. Val. If it please me, Madam! what then? Sil. Why, if it please you, take it for your labour; And so good-morrow, servant. [Exit SILVIA. Speed. O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple! My master sues to her; and she hath taught her He being her pupil, to become her tutor. [suitor, O excellent device! was there ever heard a better? That my master, being scribe, to himself should write the letter? Val. How now, Sir! what are you reasoning with yourself? Speed. Nay, I was rhyming; tis you that have the reason. Val. To do what? Speed. To be a spokesman from Madam Silvia. Speed. To yourself: why, she wooes you by a 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 write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest? Val. No, believe me. Speed. No believing you indeed, Sir; but did you perceive her earnest? Val. She gave me none, except an angry word. Speed. And that letter hath she deliver'd, and there an end. Val. I would it were no worse. "For often you have writ to her; and she, in modesty, Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply, Or fearing else some messenger, that might her mind discover, Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover." All this I speak in print; for in print I found it.- Val. I have dined. Speed. Ay, but hearken, Sir; though the chameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat: 0, be not like your mistress; be moved, be moved. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-VERONA. A Room in JULIA's House. Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia. [Giving a ring. [Exit JULIA. Julia, farewell.-What! gone without a word? Pan. Sir Proteus, you are stay'd for. Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-The same. A Street. Enter LAUNCE, leading a dog. Laun. Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault: I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think, Crab my dog be the sourestnatured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear: he is a stone, a very pebble-stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner of it: This shoe is my father; -no, this left shoe 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, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father; a vengeance on't! there 'tis: now, Sir, this staff is my sister; for, look you, she is as white as a lily, and as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog-no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog,-0, the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so. Now come I to my father; "Father, your blessing;" now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping; now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on: now come I to my mother, (0, that she could speak now!) like a wood woman;well, I kiss her;-why there 'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down: now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes: now the dog all this while sheds not a tear, nor speaks a word; but see how I lay the dust with my tears. Enter PANTHINO. shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy master is What's the matter? why weepest thou, man? Away, ass; you will lose the tide, if you tarry any longer. Laun. It is no matter if the tied were lost; for it is the unkindest tied that ever any man tied. Pan. What's the unkindest tide? Laun. Why, he that's tied here; Crab, my dog. Pan. Tut, man, I mean thou 'lt lose the flood; and, in losing the flood, lose thy voyage; and, in losing thy voyage, lose thy master; and, in losing thy master, lose thy service; and, in losing thy service,—Why dost thou stop my mouth? Laun. For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue. Pan. In thy tail? Laun. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service? The tide !-Why, man, if the river were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the wind were down, I could drive the boat with my sighs. Pan. Come, come away, man; I was sent to call thee. Laun. Well, I will go. [Exeunt. Thu. And how quote you my folly? Thu. My jerkin is a doublet. Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly. Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio? do you change colour? Fal. Give him leave, Madam; he is a kind of chameleon. Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood, than live in your air. Val. You have said, Sir. Thu. Ay, Sir, and done too, for this time. Val. I know it well, Sir; you always end ere you begin. Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off. Val. 'Tis indeed, Madam; we thank the giver. Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire: Sir Thurio 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 bare words. Sl. 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 be thankful To any happy messenger from thence. Duke. Know you Don Antonio, your countryman? Val. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman To be of worth, and worthy estimation, And not without desert so well reputed. Duke. Hath he not a son? Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well deserves The honour and regard of such a father. Duke. You know him well? Val. I knew him as myself; for from our infancy We have conversed, and spent our hours together: And though myself have been an idle truant, Omitting the sweet benefit of time, To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection; Duke. Beshrew me, Sir, but if he make this good, Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he. Duke. Welcome him, then, according to his worth; Silvia, I speak to you; and you, Sir Thurio:For Valentine, I need not 'cite him to it; I'll send him hither to you presently. Val. This is the gentleman, I told your ladyship, [Exit DUKE. Had come along with me, but that his mistress Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks. Sil. Belike, that now she hath enfranchised them Upon some other pawn for fealty. Val. Nay, sure, I think, she holds them prisoners [still. Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind, How could he see his way to seek out you? Val. Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. Thu. They say, that love hath not an eye at all. Val. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself; Upon a homely object love can wink. Enter PROTEUS. Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman. Val. Welcome, dear Proteus !-Mistress, I beseech Confirm his welcome with some special favour. [you, Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither, If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from. Val. Mistress, it is: sweet lady, entertain him To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship. Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a servant. Pro. Not so, sweet lady; but too mean a servant To have a look of such a worthy mistress. Val. Leave off discourse of disability:Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant. Pro. My duty will I boast of, nothing else. Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed; Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress. Pro. I'll die on him that says so, but yourself. Sil. That you are welcome? Pro. No; that you are worthless. Enter Servant. Ser. Madam, my lord your father would speak with you. Sil. I'll wait upon his pleasure.-[Exit Ser.] Come, Go with me:-Once more, new servant, welcome: [Exeunt SILVIA, THERIO, and SPEED. Pro. I left them all in health. Val. How does your lady? and how thrives your I know, you joy not in a love-discourse. Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now: I have done penance for contemning love; Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me With bitter fasts, with penitential groans, With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs; For, in revenge of my contempt of love, Love hath chased sleep from my enthralled eyes, And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow. O, gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord; And hath so humbled me, as, I confess, There is no woe to his correction, Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth! Now, no discourse, except it be of love; Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep, Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye: Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint? Pro. I will not flatter her. Val. O, flatter me; for love delights in praises. Pro. When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills; And I must minister the like to you. Val. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine, Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth. Val. Sweet, except not any; |