With willing sport, to the wild ocean. And make a pastime of each weary step, Luc. But in what habit will you go along? Jul. Not like a woman; for I would prevent The loose encounters of lascivious men: Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds As may beseem some well-reputed page. Luc. Why then your ladyship must cut your hair. 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 that fashion thou best lik'st, Lucetta. Luc. You must needs have them with a cod-piece, madam. Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd. Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin, Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on. Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly: But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me, For undertaking so unstaid a journey? I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd. Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and go not. Jul. Nay, that I will not. Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go. If Proteus like your journey, when you come, No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone : I fear me, he will scarce be pleas'd withal. * Trouble. Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear: 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 wrong, To bear a hard opinion of his truth: ACT III. [Exeunt. SCENE I. Milan. An Anti-room in 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 Thurio. Now tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me? Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would dis cover, The law of friendship bids me to conceal : And when I call to mind your gracious favours * Longed for. Done to me, undeserving as I am, My duty pricks me on to utter that Which else no worldly good should draw from me. I know, you have determined to bestow her Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care; 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, Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never know That I had any light from thee of this. Pro. Adieu, my lord; sir Valentine is coming. Enter Valentine. [Exit. 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? Val. The tenor of them doth but signify My health, and happy being at your court. Duke. Nay, then no matter; stay with me awhile; I am to break with thee of some affairs, That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret. Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward, Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty; Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her; And turn her out to who will take her in : Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan, here, 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. Send her another; never give her o'er; : 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. * Hinders. |