Val. No, believe me. Speed. No believing you, indeed, sir. did you perceive her earnest? But Val. She gave me none, except an angry word. Speed. Why, she hath given you a letter. Val. That's the letter I writ to her friend. Speed. And that letter hath she delivered, and there an end. Val. I would it were no worse. Speed. I'll warrant you, 'tis as well: 170 For often have you 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. Why muse you, sir? 'tis dinner-time. Val. I have dined. Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake. [Giving a ring. Pro. Why, then, we'll make exchange; here, take you this. Jl. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss. Pro. Here is my hand for my true constancy; And when that hour o'erslips me in the day Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake, The next ensuing hour some foul mischance Torment me for my love's forgetfulness! My father stays my coming; answer not; The tide is now: nay, not thy tide of tears; That tide will stay me longer than I should. Julia, farewell! [Exit Julia. What, gone without a word? SCENE III. The same. A street. Enter LAUNCE, leading a dog. Launce. 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 sourest-natured 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-Oh! 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: O, 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. 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? 51 Launce. For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue. Pan. Where should I lose my tongue? Launce. In thy tale. Pan. In thy tail! Speed. Not of you. Val. Of my mistress, then. Val. I know him as myself; for from our infancy We have conversed and spent our hours together: To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection, Speed. "Twere good you knocked him. [Exit. His years but young, but his experience old; Sil. Servant, you are sad. Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so. Thu. Seem you that you are not? Val. Haply I do. Thu. So do counterfeits. Val. So do you. What seem I that I am not? Val. Wise. Thu. What instance of the contrary? Thu. And how quote you my folly? Thu. My jerkin is a doublet. Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly. Thu. How? ΙΟ 20 Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio! do you change colour? Val. 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. 30 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. Sil. Who is that, servant? 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. 40 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. Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more: here comes my father. His head unmellow'd, but his judgement ripe ; 70 He is complete in feature and in mind With all good grace to grace a gentleman. Duke. Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this good, He is as worthy for an empress' love As meet to be an emperor's counsellor. And here he means to spend his time awhile: So Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he. Duke. Welcome him then according to his worth. [Exit. Silvia, I speak to you, and you, sir Thurio; Had come along with me, but that his mistress 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? at all. Val. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself: Upon a homely object Love can wink. Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman. Enter PROTEUS. [Exit THURIO. Val. Welcome, dear Proteus! Mistress, I beseech you, 100 Confirm his welcome with some special favour. 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 Val. And how do yours? I left them all in health. Val. How does your lady? and how thrives your love? Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you; 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 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. 150 Val. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine, Yet let her be a principality, Sweet, except not any; She shall be dignified with this high honour- Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this? Val. Pardon me, Proteus: all I can is nothing To her whose worth makes other worthies nothing; She is alone. Pro. Then let her alone. Val. Not for the world: why, man, she is mine own, And I as rich in having such a jewel As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl, 170 Val. Ay, and we are betroth'd: nay, more, our marriage-hour, 180 With all the cunning manner of our flight, 190 [Exit Valentine. Even as one heat another heat expels, Or as one nail by strength drives out another, So the remembrance of my former love Is by a newer object quite forgotten. +Is it mine, or Valentine's praise, Her true perfection, or my false transgression, SCENE V. 210 [Exit. Enter SPEED and LAUNCE severally. Speed. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to Milan! Launce. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth, for I am not welcome. I reckon this always, that a man is never undone till he be hanged, nor never welcome to a place till some certain shot be paid and the hostess say 'Welcome!' Speed. Come on, you madcap, I'll to the alehouse with you presently; where, for one shot of five pence, thou shalt have five thousand welcomes. But, sirrah, how did thy master part with Madam Julia? Launce. Marry, after they closed in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest. Speed. But shall she marry him? Speed. How then? shall he marry her? Speed. What, are they broken? Launce. Marry, thus; when it stands well with him, it stands well with her. Speed. What an ass art thou! I understand thee not. Launce. What a block art thou, that thou canst not! My staff understands me. Speed. What thou sayest? Launce. Ay, and what I do too: look thee, I'll but lean, and my staff understands me. Speed. It stands under thee, indeed. Launce. Why, stand-under and under-stand is all one. Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match? Launce. Ask my dog: if he say ay, it will; if he say, no, it will; if he shake his tail and say nothing, it will. Speed. The conclusion is then that it will. Launce. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me but by a parable. Speed. 'Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how sayest thou, that my master is become a notable lover? Launce. I never knew him otherwise. Launce. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be. Speed. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistakest me. 50 Launce. Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy master. Speed. I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover. Launce. Why, I tell thee, I care not though he burn himself in love. If thou wilt, go with me to the alehouse; if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian. Speed. Why? Launce. 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. SCENE VI. [Exeunt. The same. The DUKE's palace. Pro. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn; Love bade me swear and Love bids me forswear. O sweet-suggesting Love, if thou hast sinn'd, ΤΟ 20 30 But there I leave to love where I should love. 40 Enter JULIA and LUCETTA. Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me; And even in kind love I do conjure thee, Who art the table wherein all my thoughts Are visibly character'd and engraved, To lesson me and tell me some good mean How, with my honour, I may undertake A journey to my loving Proteus. ΙΟ Luc. Alas, the way is wearisome and long! Ful. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps; Much less shall she that hath Love's wings to fly, 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. O, know'st thou not his looks are my soul's food? Pity the dearth that I have pined in, But qualify the fire's extreme rage, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. Jul. The more thou damm'st it up, the more it burns. The current that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth All that is mine I leave at thy dispose, rage; But when his fair course is not hindered, 30 He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones, Luc. But in what habit will you go along? Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in silken strings With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots. To be fantastic may become a youth Of greater time than I shall show to be. Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your breeches? Jul. That fits as well as 'Tell me, good my lord, What compass will you wear your farthingale?' Why even what fashion thou best likest, Lucetta. Luc. You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam. Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be illfavour'd. Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin, Unless you have a codpiece to stick pins on. Jul. Lucetta, as thou lovest me, let me have What thou thinkest meet and is most mannerly. But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me For undertaking so unstaid a journey? 60 I fear me, it will make me scandalized. Luc. If you think so, then stay at home and go not. Jul. Nay, that I will not. go. Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but If Proteus like your journey when you come, No matter who's displeased when you are gone: I fear me, he will scarce be pleased withal. Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear: A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears And instances of infinite of love Warrant me welcome to my Proteus. 70 Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men. Jul. Base men, that use them to so base effect! But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth; His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles, His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate, 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 come to him! Jul. Now, as thou lovest me, do him not that wrong To bear a hard opinion of his truth: 80 My goods, my lands, my reputation; ACT III. [Exeunt. go SCENE I. Milan. The DUKE's palace. Enter DUKE, THURIO, and PROTEUS. Duke. Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile; We have some secrets to confer about. [Exit Thu. Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me? Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would discover The law of friendship bids me to conceal; I know you have determined to bestow her care; 21 30 Which to requite, command me while I live. mean Enter VALENTINE. Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? 40 |