gone:

1 fear me, he will scarce be pleas'd withal.
Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear:
A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
And instances as infinite of love,
Warrant me welcome to my Proteus.

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 lov'st me, do him not that

me?

Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would discover,

The law of friendship bids me to conceal :
But, when I call to mind your gracious favours
Done to me, undeserving as I am,
My duty pricks me on to utter that [me.
Which else no worldly good should draw from
Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine, my friend,
This night intends to steal away your daugh-
Myself am one made privy to the plot. [ter;
I know, you have determin'd to bestow her
On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates;
And should she thus be stolen away from you,
It would be much vexation to your age.
Thus, for my duty's sake, I rather chose
Το
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 judged me fast asleep; And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid

* Longed for.

(A rashness that I ever yet have shunn'd,)
I 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,f
I nightly lodge her in an upper tower,
The key whereof myself have ever kept;
And thence she cannot be convey'd away.

Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a

mean

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
know

That I had any light from thee of this.
Pro. Adicu, my lord; Sir Valentine is com-
ing.
[Exit.

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?

Vul. The tenor of them doth but signify
My health, and happy being at your court.
Duke. Nay, then no matter; stay with me a
while;

I am to break with thee of some affairs,
That touch me near, wherein thou must be

secret.

Tis not unknown to thee, that I have sought
To match my friend, Sir Thurio, to my daughter.
Val. I know it well, my lord; and, sure, the
match
[man
Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentle-
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, froward,

Neither regarding that she is my child,
Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty;
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
duty,

I now am full resolved to take a wife,
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?

Whom I affect; but she is nice, and coy,
Duke. There is a lady, Sir, in Milan here,
And nought esteems my aged eloquence:
(For long agone I have forgot to court:
Now, therefore, would I have thee to my tutor,
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;
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;
Flatter, and praise, commend, extol their

graces;

Though ne'er so black, say, they have angels'

faces.

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.

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.
Val. Why then, a ladder, quaintly 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 thou art a gentleman of blood, Advise me where I may have such a ladder. Val. When would you use it? pray, Sir, tell

me that.

Duke. This very night; for love is like a child, That longs for every thing that he can come by. Val. By seven o'clock I'll get you such a

ladder.

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 bear it

Under a cloak, that is of any length.

Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn?

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.

Duke. How shall I fashion me to wear a

My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them; While I, their king, that thither them importune,

Do 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 What's here? [be.

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 heavenly car, And with thy daring folly burn the world? Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on

thee?

Go, base intruder! overweening 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.
But as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from
Be gone,
I will not hear thy vain excuse,
[Exit DUKE.

hence.

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?
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
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?

Laun. Him we go to find: there's not a hair on's head, but 'tis a Valentine.

Pro. Valentine?

Val. No.

Laun. Can nothing speak? master, snail I

strike?

Pro. Whom would'st thou strike? Laun. Nothing.

Pro. Villain, forbear.

Laun. Why, Sir, I'll strike nothing: I pray

So much of bad already hath possess'd them. Pro. Then in dumb silence will I bury mine, For they are harsh, untunable, and bad.

Speed. Item, She will often praise her liquor. Laun. 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.*

Laun. 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 I cannot help. Well, proceed.

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

Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit,Laun. 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,— Laun. That's monstrous: O, that that were out!

Speed. And more wealth than faults. Laun. 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?

Pro. I do, my lord. Duke. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant How she opposes her against my will.

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: 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 loath to do. Tis an ill office for a gentleman; Especially, against his very friend.

Duke. Where your good word cannot advan tage him,

Your slander never can endamage him;
Therefore the office is indifferent,
Being entreated to it by your friend.

Pro. You have prevailed, my lord: if I can do it,

By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,

Speed. For me?

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

Speed. And must I go to him?

Laun. 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. Laun. Now will he be swinged 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.-The same.-A Room in the DUKE'S Palace.

Enter DUKE and THURIO; PROTEUS behind. Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not, but that she will

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.

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?

Pro. Gone, my good lord.

Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously.

Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief. Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not

80.

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 face.

Duke. Thou know'st, how willingly I would effect

The match between Sir Thurio and my daughter.

Licentious in language. + Graceful, : Cul.

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 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 poet's
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;t 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.

Enter VALENTINE and SPEED.

3 Out. Stand, Sir, and throw us that you have 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 propert man.

[lose;

Val. Then know, that I have little wealth to A man I am, cross'd 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 sojourned there?
Val. Some sixteen months; and longer might
have staid,

If 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

rehearse:

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 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!

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 gentlemen,

Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth,

Choose out + Well-looking. + Languages.

man,

Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you:
To make a virtue of necessity,
Are you content to be our general?

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 Provided that you do no outrages [you; 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 show 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 falsehood 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 music 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, genLet's tune, and to it lustily a while. [tlemen,

Lawful. Anger, resentment. Passionate reproaches