Val. Ay, boy, it's for love. Val. Of my mistress then. Speed. 'Twere good, you knocked him. Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so. Thu. Seem you that you are not? Thu. So do counterfeits. Val. So do you. Thu. What seem I, that I am not? Thu. What instance of the contrary? Thu. And how quote‡ you my folly? Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly. Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio? do you change colour? Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of cameleon. 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. 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. Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt. * Serious. + Perhaps. ‡ Observe. 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. 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 country man? 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 convers'd, 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; He is as worthy for an empress' love, * Ill betide. As meet to be an emperor's counsellor. 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. [Exit Duke. Val. This is the gentleman, I told your ladyship, 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 enfranchis'd 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 be- Confirm his welcome with some special favour. Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a servant. * Incite, 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 Servant. Come, Sir Thurio, Go with me:-Once more, new servant, welcome: When you have done, we look to hear from you. [Exeunt Silvia, Thurio, and Speed. Val. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came? Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much commended, Val. And how do yours? Pro. 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 nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs; Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes, row, O, gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord; Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth! Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye : Was this the idol that you worship so? Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint ? Pro. No; but she is an earthly paragon. Val. Call her divine. 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, Yet let her be a principality, Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth. Val. Sweet, except not any; Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine own? Val. And I will help thee to prefer her too : She shall be dignified with this high honour,To bear my lady's train: lest the base earth Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss, And, of so great a favour growing proud, Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower, And make rough winter everlastingly. 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, The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold. Forgive me, that I do not dream on thee, Because thou seest me dote upon my love. My foolish rival, that her father likes, Only for his possessions are so huge, |