The Complete Works of William Shakespeare

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,
Upon the very naked name of love.

140

Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye. Was this the idol that you worship so? 145 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. 148
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,

152

Yet let her be a principality,
Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth.
Pro. Except my mistress.
Val.
Sweet, except not any,
Except thou wilt except against my love. 156
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 160
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.

164

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 see'st me dote upon my love.
My foolish rival, that her father likes
Only for his possessions are so huge,
Is gone with her along, and I must after,
For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy.
Pro. But she loves you?

172

176

196

200

204

Even as one heat another heat expels, 193
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 eye, or Valentinus' praise,
Her true perfection, or my false transgression,
That makes me reasonless to reason thus?
She's fair; and so is Julia that I love,-
That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd,
Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire,
Bears no impression of the thing it was.
Methinks my zeal to Valentine is cold,
And that I love him not as I was wont:
O! but I love his lady too-too much;
And that's the reason I love him so little.
How shall I dote on her with more advice, 208
That thus without advice begin to love her?
'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld,
And that hath dazzled my reason's light;
But when I look on her perfections,
There is no reason but I shall be blind.
If I can check my erring love, I will;
If not, to compass her I'll use my skill. [Exit.
SCENE V.-The Same. A Street.
Enter SPEED and LAUNCE.
Speed. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to
Milan!

212

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!' 7

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?

Val. Ay, and we are betroth'd: nay, more, our marriage-hour,

Launce. No, neither.

180

Speed. What, are they broken?

With all the cunning manner of our flight,

Launce. No, they are both as whole as a fish.

Speed. Why then, how stands the matter with them?

Launce. Marry, thus; when it stands well with him, it stands well with her. 24

Speed. What an ass art thou! I understand thee not.

Launce. What a block art thou, that thou canst not! My staff understands me. 28 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.

41 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.
Speed. Than how?

Launce. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be. 48

Speed. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistakest me.

Launce. Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy master. 52

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 so; if not, thou art a Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian.

O sweet-suggesting Love! if thou hast sinn'd,
Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it. 8
At first I did adore a twinkling star,
But now I worship a celestial sun.
Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken;
And he wants wit that wants resolved will
To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better.
Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad,
Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd
With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths.
I cannot leave to love, and yet I do;
17
But there I leave to love where I should love.
Julia I lose and Valentine I lose:
If I keep them, I needs must lose myself;
If I lose them, thus find I by their loss,
For Valentine, myself; for Julia, Silvia.
I to myself am dearer than a friend,
For love is still most precious in itself;
And Silvia-witness heaven that made her

fair!

Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.
I will forget that Julia is alive,
Remembering that my love to her is dead;
And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,
Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.
I cannot now prove constant to myself
Without some treachery us'd to Valentine:
This night he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celestial Silvia's chamber-window,
Myself in counsel, his competitor.
Now presently, I'll give her father notice
Of their disguising and pretended flight;
Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentine;
For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter;
But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross, 40
By some sly trick blunt Thurio's dull pro-
ceeding.

The current that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;

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. 64
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.

Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear: 68
A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
And instances of 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, 76
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!

But when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with th' enamell'd stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;
And so by many winding nooks he strays
With willing sport, to the wild ocean.
Then let me go and hinder not my course:
I'll be as patient as a gentle stream
And make a pastime of each weary step,
Till the last step have brought me to my love; 36 And presently go with me to my chamber,

And there I'll rest, as after much turmoil
A blessed soul doth in Elysium.

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.

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. 56
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.

Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that
wrong

To bear a hard opinion of his truth:
Only deserve my love by loving him,

To take a note of what I stand in need of
To furnish me upon my longing journey.
All that is mine I leave at thy dispose,
My goods, my lands, my reputation;
Only, in lieu thereof, dispatch me hence.
Come, answer not, but to it presently!
I am impatient of my tarriance.

ACT III.

[Exeunt.

28 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

Which to requite, command me while I live.
This love of theirs myself have often seen,
Haply, when they have judg'd me fast asleep,
And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid
Sir Valentine her company and my court;
But fearing lest my jealous aim might err
And so unworthily disgrace the man,—
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. 32
And, that thou mayst perceive my fear of this,
Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested,
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

Duke. There is a lady of Verona here,
Whom I affect; but she is nice and coy
And nought esteems my aged eloquence:
40 Now therefore, would I have thee to my tutor,
For long agone I have forgot to court;
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.

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. 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 mes-

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 sometime 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!'
56 Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces;
Though ne'er so black, say they have angels'

Val. The tenour 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.

'Tis not unknown to thee that I have sought To match my friend Sir Thurio to my daughter.

faces.

100

That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no

man,

If with his tongue he cannot win a woman. 105 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.

108 What's here?

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. 112 Val. What lets but one may enter at her window?

Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee. 'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose. Why, Phaethon,-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, basc intruder! overweening slave!

Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates, ground,

And built so shelving that one cannot climb it
Without apparent hazard of his life.

116

Under a cloak that is of any length.

156

And think my patience, more than thy desert,
Is privilege for thy departure hence.
160
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

164

Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the There is no music in the nightingale;
turn?

Val. Ay, my good lord.
Duke.
Then let me see thy cloak: 132
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
cloak?

I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me. 136
[Pulls open VALENTINE'S cloak.
What letter is this same? What's here?-To
Silvia!

And here an engine fit for my proceeding!
I'll be so bold to break the seal for once.

My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly; 140
And slaves they are to me that send them flying:
O could their master come and go as lightly,
Himself would lodge where senseless they are
lying!

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 would be.

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.

172

176

180

184

148

Pro. Who would'st thou strike?

200

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