Val. What would your grace have me to do in this? 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, her. Val. A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her. Send her another; never give her o'er, If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone, faces. That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, Duke. But she I mean is promis'd by her friends 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? [Reads. And here an engine fit for my proceeding! 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 should be." "Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee:" Thank me for this, more than for all the favours Will give thee time to leave our royal court, But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence. [Exit DUKE. Val. And why not death, rather than living tor- To die is to be banish'd from myself, Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE. Pro. Run, boy; run, run, and seek him out. Pro. What seest thou? Launce. Him we go to find: there's not a hair on's head, but 'tis a Valentine. Pro. Valentine? Val. No. Pro. Who then? his spirit? Val. Neither. Pro. What then? Val. Nothing. Launce. Can nothing speak? master, shall I strike? Pro. Whom wouldst thou strike? Pro. That thou art banish'd: O! that is the news, From hence, from Silvia, and from me, thy friend. Val. O! I have fed upon this woe already, And now excess of it will make me surfeit. Doth Silvia know that I am banished? Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom, (Which, unrevers'd, stands in effectual force,) A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears: Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd, With them, upon her knees, her humble self; Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them, As if but now they waxed pale for woe: Val. No more; unless the next word that thou Have some malignant power upon my life: Pro. Cease to lament for that thou canst not help, Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou see'st my boy, Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north gate. Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine. Val. O my dear Silvia! hapless Valentine! [Exeunt VALENTINE and PROTEUS. Launce. I am but a fool, look you, and yet I have the wit to think, my master is a kind of a knave; but that's all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now, that knows me to be in love: yet I am in love; but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me, nor who 'tis I love; and yet 'tis a woman: but what woman, I will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milk-maid; yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips: yet 'tis a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages. She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel, which is much in a bare Christian. Here is the cate-log [Pulling out a paper.] of her conditions. Imprimis, "She can fetch and carry." Why, a horse can do no more: nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore, is she better than a jade. Item, She can milk," look you; a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands. Enter SPEED. Speed. How now, signior Launce? what news with your mastership? Launce. With my master's ship? why, it is at sea. Speed. Well, your old vice still; mistake the word. What news, then, in your paper? Launce. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st. Launce. Fie on thee, jolt-head! thou canst not read. Speed. Thou liest, I can. Launce. I will try thee. Tell me this: who begot thee? Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather. Launce. O, illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy grandmother. This proves that thou canst not read. Speed. Come, fool, come: try me in thy paper. Launce. Ay, that she can. Speed. Item, "She brews good ale." Launce. And thereof comes the proverb,-Bless ing of your heart, you brew good ale. Launce. That's as much as to say, Can she so? Launce. What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when she can knit him a stock? Speed. Item, "She can wash and scour." Launce. A special virtue; for then she need not be wash'd and scour'd. Speed. Item, "She can spin." Launce. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living. Speed. Item, "She hath many nameless virtues." Launce. That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have no names. Speed. Here follow her vices. Launce. Close at the heels of her virtues. Speed. Item, "She is not to be kissed fasting, in respect of her breath." Launce. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast. Read on. Speed. Item, "She hath a sweet mouth." Launce. That makes amends for her sour breath. Speed. Item, "She doth talk in her sleep." Launce. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk. Speed. Item, "She is slow in words." Launce. O villain! that set this down among her vices? To be slow in words is a woman's only vir tue: I pray thee, out with't, and place it for her chief virtue. Speed. Item, "She is proud." Launce. Out with that too: it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her. Speed. Item, "She hath no teeth." Launce. I care not for that neither, because I love crusts. Speed. Item, "She is curst." Launce. Well; the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. Speed. Item, "She will often praise her liquor." Launce. 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." Launce. 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 cannot I help. Well, proceed. Speed. Item, "She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults." Launce. 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," Speed. For me? Launce. For thee? ay; who art thou? he hath stay'd for a better man than thee. Speed. And must I go to him? Launce. Thou must run to him, for thou hast stay'd so long, that going will scarce serve the turn. Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner? pox of your love-letters! [Exit. Launce. Now will he be swing'd for reading my letter. An unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into secrets.-I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction. [Erit. 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 so. 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 grace. Duke. Thou know'st how willingly I would effect The match between sir Thurio and my daughter. 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 persevers 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 loth to do: "Tis an ill office for a gentleman, Especially, against his very friend. Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage him, Your slander never can endamage him: Being entreated to it by your friend. Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord. If I can do it, By aught that I can speak in his dispraise, She shall not long continue love to him. Duke. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind, Because we know, on Valentine's report, And cannot soon revolt, and change your mind. Duke. Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred poesy. For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews, Visit by night your lady's chamber window Duke. This discipline shows thou hast been in love. Thu. And thy advice this night I'll put in practice. To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music. To give the onset to thy good advice. Pro. We'll wait upon your grace till after supper, And afterward determine our proceedings. Duke. Even now about it: I will pardon you. [Exeunt. Val. From Milan. 3 Out. Have you long sojourn'd there? Val. For that which now torments me to rehearse. Val. Some sixteen months; and longer might I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent; have stay'd, If crooked fortune had not thwarted me. 2 Out. What! were you banish'd thence? Val. I was. 2 Out. For what offence? But yet I slew him manfully, in fight, 1 Out. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so. But were you banish'd for so small a fault? Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doom. |