The Two Gentlemen of Verona.

1.1.44Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus;

1.1.55Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits,

1.1.66Wer't not affection chains thy tender days

1.1.77To the sweet glances of thy honored love,

1.1.88I rather would entreat thy company

1.1.99To see the wonders of the world abroad

1.1.1010Than, living dully sluggardized at home,

1.1.1111Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.

1.1.1212But since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein,

1.1.1313Even as I would, when I to love begin.

Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu.

1.1.1515Think on thy Proteus when thou haply seest

1.1.1616Some rare noteworthy object in thy travel.

1.1.1717Wish me partaker in thy happiness

1.1.1818When thou dost meet good hap, and in thy danger,

1.1.1919If ever danger do environ thee,

1.1.2020Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers,

1.1.2121For I will be thy beadsman, Valentine.

And on a love-book pray for my success?

Upon some book I love, I'll pray for thee.

That's on some shallow story of deep love,

1.1.2525How young Leander crossed the Hellespont.

That's a deep story of a deeper love,

1.1.2727For he was more then over-shoes in love.

'Tis true, for you are over-boots in love,

1.1.2929And yet you never swom the Hellespont.

Over the boots? Nay, give me not the boots.

No, I will not, for it boots thee not.

What?

To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans;

1.1.3434Coy looks, with heart-sore sighs; one fading moments mirth,

1.1.3535With twenty watchfull, weary, tedious nights.

1.1.3636If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain;

1.1.3737If lost, why then a grievous labor won;

1.1.3838However, but a folly bought with wit,

1.1.3939Or else a wit, by folly vanquishèd.

So, by your circumstance, you call me fool.

So, by your circumstance, I fear you'll prove.

'Tis Love you cavil at. I am not Love.

Love is your master, for he masters you;

1.1.4444And he that is so yoked by a fool,

1.1.4545Methinks should not be chronicled for wise.

Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud

1.1.4747The eating canker dwells, so eating Love

1.1.4848Inhabits in the finest wits of all.

And writers say, as the most forward bud

1.1.5050Is eaten by the canker ere it blow,

1.1.5151Even so by Love, the young and tender wit

1.1.5252Is turned to folly, blasting in the bud,

1.1.5353Losing his verdure, even in the prime,

1.1.5454And all the fair effects of future hopes.

1.1.5555But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee

1.1.5656That art a votary to fond desire?

1.1.5757Once more, adieu. My father at the road

1.1.5858Expects my coming, there to see me shipped.

And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.

Sweet Proteus, no. Now let us take our leave.

1.1.6161To Milan let me hear from thee by letters

1.1.6262Of thy success in love, and what news else

1.1.6363Betideth here in absence of thy friend,

1.1.6464And I likewise will visit thee with mine.

All happiness bechance to thee in Milan.

As much to you at home, and so farewell.

He after honor hunts, I after love:

1.1.7068He leaves his friends to dignify them more;

1.1.7169I leave my self, my friends, and all for love.

1.1.7270Thou Julia, thou hast metamorphosed me:

1.1.7371Made me neglect my studies, lose my time,

1.1.7472War with good counsel, set the world at nought;

1.1.7573Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought.

Sir Proteus, 'save you. Saw you my master?

But now he parted hence to embark for Milan.

Twenty to one, then, he is shipped already,

1.1.8077And I have played the sheep in losing him.

Indeed a sheep doth very often stray

1.1.8279An if the shepherd be awhile away.

You conclude that my master is a shepherd, then, 81and I a sheep?

I do.

Why then my horns are his horns, whether I 84wake or sleep.

A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep.

This proves me still a sheep.

True, and thy master a shepherd.

Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance.

It shall go hard but I'll prove it by another.

The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the 91sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and my 92master seeks not me. Therefore I am no sheep.

The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd, 94the shepherd for food follows not the sheep; thou 95for wages followest thy master, thy master for wages 96follows not thee. Therefore thou art a sheep.

Such another proof will make me cry "baa."

But dost thou hear? Gav'st thou my letter 99to Julia?

Ay, Sir. I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, 101a laced mutton, and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a 102lost mutton, nothing for my labor.

Here's too small a pasture for such store of 104muttons.

If the ground be overcharged, you were best 106stick her.

Nay, in that you are astray; 'twere best pound 108you.

Nay Sir, less than a pound shall serve me for car110rying your letter.

You mistake; I mean the pound, a pinfold.

From a pound to a pin? Fold it over and over, 113'tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover.

But what said she?

1.1.104[Nods.] Ay.

Nod-ay, why that's "noddy."

You mistook, Sir. I say she did nod; 118and you ask me if she did nod, and I say Ay.

And that set together is "noddy."

Now you have taken the pains to set it toge121ther, take it for your pains.

No, no, you shall have it for bearing the letter.

Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you.

Why Sir, how do you bear with me?

Marry Sir, the letter very orderly, 126having nothing but the word noddy for my pains.

Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit.

And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse.

Come, come, open the matter in brief; what 130said she?

Open your purse, that the money and the matter 132may be both at once delivered.

Well, sir, here is for your pains. [Gives a coin to Proteus.] What said she?

[Considers coin.] Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her.

Why? Could'st thou perceive so much from her?

1.1.121Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her;

1.1.122137No, not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter.

1.1.123138And being so hard to me, that brought your mind,

1.1.124139I fear she'll prove as hard to you in telling your mind.

1.1.125140Give her no token but stones, for she's as hard as steel.

What said she, nothing?

1.1.128No, not so much as take this for thy pains. 143To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testerned me; 144in requital whereof, henceforth, carry your letters your145self. And so, sir, I'll commend you to my master.

Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wrack,

1.1.131147Which cannot perish having thee aboard,

1.1.132148Being destined to a drier death on shore.

1.1.133149I must go send some better messenger.

1.1.134150I fear my Julia would not deign my lines,

1.1.135151Receiving them from such a worthless post.

But say, Lucetta, now we are alone,

1.2.4155Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love?

Ay, Madam, so you stumble not unheedfully.

Of all the fair resort of gentlemen

1.2.7158That every day with parle encounter me,

1.2.8159In thy opinion which is worthiest love?

Please you repeat their names, I'll show my mind

1.2.10161According to my shallow simple skill.

What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour?

As of a knight, well-spoken, neat, and fine;

1.2.13164But were I you, he never should be mine.

What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio?

Well of his wealth; but of himself, so-so.

What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus?

Lord, Lord, to see what folly reigns in us.

How now? What means this passion at his name?

Pardon, dear madam, 'tis a passing shame

1.2.20171That I, unworthy body as I am,

1.2.21172Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.

Why not on Proteus as of all the rest?

Then thus: of many good, I think him best.

Your reason?

I have no other but a woman's reason:

1.2.26177I think him so because I think him so.

And would'st thou have me cast my love on him?

Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.

Why he, of all the rest, hath never moved me.

Yet he, of all the rest, I think best loves ye.

His little speaking shows his love but small.

Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.

They do not love that do not show their love.

Oh, they love least that let men know their love.

I would I knew his mind.

Peruse this paper, madam.

"To Julia." Say, from whom?

That the contents will show.

Say, say, who gave it thee?

Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from Proteus.

1.2.42192He would have given it you, but I being in the way

1.2.43193Did in your name receive it. Pardon the fault, I pray.

Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker.

1.2.45195Dare you presume to harbor wanton lines?

1.2.46196To whisper and conspire against my youth?

1.2.47197Now trust me, 'tis an office of great worth,

1.2.48198And you an officer fit for the place.

1.2.49199There, take the paper. [Gives Lucetta the letter.] See it be returned,

1.2.50200Or else return no more into my sight.

To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.

Will ye be gone?

That you may ruminate.

And yet I would I had o'er looked the letter.

1.2.57205It were a shame to call her back again,

1.2.58206And pray her to a fault for which I chid her.

1.2.59207What fool is she, that knows I am a maid

1.2.60208And would not force the letter to my view?

1.2.61209Since maids, in modesty, say "No" to that

1.2.62210Which they would have the profferer construe "Ay."

1.2.63211Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love

1.2.64212That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse,

1.2.65213And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod!

1.2.66214How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,

1.2.67215When willingly I would have had her here!

1.2.68216How angerly I taught my brow to frown,

1.2.69217When inward joy enforced my heart to smile!

1.2.70218My penance is to call Lucetta back

1.2.71219And ask remission for my folly past.

1.2.72220What ho! Lucetta!

What would your ladyship?

Is't near dinner time?

I would it were,

1.2.78224That you might kill your stomach on your meat,

1.2.79225And not upon your maid.

What is't that you

1.2.82227Took up so gingerly?

Nothing.

Why didst thou stoop then?

To take a paper up that I let fall.

And is that paper nothing?

Nothing concerning me.

Then let it lie for those that it concerns.

Madam, it will not lie where it concerns,

1.2.90235Unless it have a false interpreter.

Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme.

That I might sing it, madam, to a tune.

1.2.93238Give me a note. Your ladyship can set -

As little by such toys as may be possible.

1.2.95240Best sing it to the tune of "Light o' love."

It is too heavy for so light a tune.

Heavy? Belike it hath some burden then?

Ay, and melodious were it, would you sing it.

And why not you?

I cannot reach so high.

Let's see your song.

1.2.103247How now, minion?

Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out.

1.2.105249And yet me thinks I do not like this tune.

You do not?

No, madam, 'tis too sharp.

You, minion, are too saucy.

Nay, now you are too flat,

1.2.110254And mar the concord with too harsh a descant.

1.2.111255There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.

The mean is drowned with your unruly base.

Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.

This babble shall not henceforth trouble me;

1.2.115259Here is a coil with protestation.

1.2.117260Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie;

1.2.118261You would be fingering them to anger me.

1.2.120 [Aside] She makes it strange, but she would be best pleased

1.2.121263To be so angered with another letter.

Nay, would I were so angered with the same.

1.2.124265O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!

1.2.125266Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey,

1.2.126267And kill the bees that yield it with your stings!

1.2.127268I'll kiss each several paper for amends.

1.2.128269Look, here is writ, "Kind Julia." Unkind Julia!

1.2.129270As in revenge of thy ingratitude,

1.2.130271I throw thy name against the bruising stones,

1.2.131272Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.

1.2.132273And here is writ, "Love-wounded Proteus."

1.2.133274Poor wounded name, my bosom as a bed

1.2.134275Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly healed;

1.2.135276And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.

1.2.136277But twice or thrice was Proteus written down.

1.2.137278Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away,

1.2.138279Till I have found each letter in the letter

1.2.139280Except mine own name. That, some whirlwind bear

1.2.140281Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock,

1.2.141282And throw it thence into the raging sea.

1.2.142283Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ:

1.2.143284"Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus

1.2.144285To the sweet Julia." That I'll tear away,

1.2.145286And yet I will not, sith so prettily

1.2.146287He couples it to his complaining names.

1.2.147288Thus will I fold them, one upon another;

1.2.148289Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.

Madam, dinner is ready, and your father stays.

Well, let us go.

What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here?

If you respect them, best to take them up.

Nay, I was taken up for laying them down.

1.2.155295Yet here they shall not lie for catching cold.

I see you have a month's mind to them.

Ay, Madam, you may say what sights you see;

1.2.158298I see things too, although you judge I wink.

Come, come, wilt please you go?

Tell me Pantino, what sad talk was that

1.3.4303Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister?

'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son.

Why? What of him?

He wondered that your lordship

1.3.8307Would suffer him to spend his youth at home,

1.3.9308While other men, of slender reputation,

1.3.10309Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:

1.3.11310Some to the wars, to try their fortune there,

1.3.12311Some to discover islands far away,

1.3.13312Some to the studious universities.

1.3.14313For any or for all these exercises

1.3.15314He said that Proteus your son was meet,

1.3.16315And did request me to importune you

1.3.17316To let him spend his time no more at home,

1.3.18317Which would be great impeachment to his age

1.3.19318In having known no travel in his youth.

Nor need'st thou much importune me to that

1.3.21320Whereon this month I have been hammering.

1.3.22321I have considered well his loss of time,

1.3.23322And how he cannot be a perfect man

1.3.24323Not being tried and tutored in the world.

1.3.25324Experience is by industry achieved

1.3.26325And perfected by the swift course of time.

1.3.27326Then tell me, whither were I best to send him?

I think your lordship is not ignorant

1.3.29328How his companion, youthful Valentine,

1.3.30329Attends the Emperor in his royal court.

I know it well.

'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither.

1.3.33332There shall he practice tilts and tournaments,

1.3.34333Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen

1.3.35334And be in eye of every exercise

1.3.36335Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.

I like thy counsel; well hast thou advised.

1.3.38337And that thou may'st perceive how well I like it,

1.3.39338The execution of it shall make known.

1.3.40339Even with the speediest expedition,

1.3.41340I will dispatch him to the Emperor's Court.

Tomorrow, may it please you, Don Alfonso

1.3.43342With other gentlemen of good esteem

1.3.44343Are journeying to salute the Emperor

1.3.45344And to commend their service to his will.

Good company. With them shall Proteus go.

1.3.48346And in good time; now will we break with him.

Sweet love, sweet lines, sweet life.

1.3.50348Here is her hand, the agent of her heart;

1.3.51349Here is her oath for love, her honor's pawn.

1.3.52350Oh, that our fathers would applaud our loves

1.3.53351To seal our happiness with their consents.

1.3.54352O heavenly Julia.

How now? What letter are you reading there?

May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two

1.3.57355Of commendations sent from Valentine,

1.3.58356Delivered by a friend that came from him.

Lend me the letter. Let me see what news.

There is no news, my lord, but that he writes

1.3.61359How happily he lives, how well beloved

1.3.62360And daily graced by the Emperor,

1.3.63361Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.

And how stand you affected to his wish?

As one relying on your lordship's will,

1.3.66364And not depending on his friendly wish.

My will is something sorted with his wish.

1.3.68366Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed,

1.3.69367For what I will, I will, and there an end.

1.3.70368I am resolved that thou shalt spend some time

1.3.71369With Valentinus in the Emperor's court.

1.3.72370What maintenance he from his friends receives,

1.3.73371Like exhibition thou shalt have from me.

1.3.74372Tomorrow be in readiness to go.

1.3.75373Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.

My lord, I cannot be so soon provided.

1.3.77375Please you, deliberate a day or two.

Look what thou want'st shall be sent after thee.

1.3.79377No more of stay; tomorrow thou must go.

1.3.80378Come on, Pantino; you shall be employed

1.3.81379To hasten on his expedition.

Thus have I shunned the fire for fear of burning

1.3.84381And drenched me in the sea where I am drowned.

1.3.85382I feared to show my father Julia's letter

1.3.86383Lest he should take exceptions to my love,

1.3.87384And with the vantage of mine own excuse

1.3.88385Hath he excepted most against my love.

1.3.89386Oh, how this spring of love resembleth

1.3.90387The uncertain glory of an April day,

1.3.91388Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,

1.3.92389And by and by a cloud takes all away.

Sir Proteus, your father calls for you.

1.3.95391He is in haste; therefore, I pray you, go.

Why, this it is: my heart accords thereto,

1.3.97393And yet a thousand times it answers, "No."

Sir, your glove.

Not mine. My gloves are on.

Why then, this may be yours, for this is but one.

Ha? Let me see. Ay, give it me, it's mine.

2.1.7401Sweet ornament, that decks a thing divine.

2.1.8402Ah, Silvia, Silvia!

Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia!

How now, sirrah?

She is not within hearing, sir.

Why sir, who bad you call her?

Your worship, sir, or else I mistook.

Well, you'll still be too forward.

And yet I was last chidden for being too slow.

Go to, sir. Tell me, do you know Madam Silvia?

She that your worship loves?

Why, how know you that I am in love?

Marry, by these special marks: first, you have 414learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreath your arms like a 415malcontent; to relish a love-song, like a Robin red416breast; to walk alone like one that had the pestilence; 417to sigh, like a schoolboy that had lost his A.B.C.; to 418weep, like a young wench that had buried her grandam: 419to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one that 420fears robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hal421lowmas. You were wont, when you laughed, to crow 422like a cock; when you walked, to walk like one of the 423lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; 424when you looked sadly, it was for want of money. And 425now you are metamorphosed with a mistress, that when I 426look on you, I can hardly think you my master.

Are all these things perceived in me?

They are all perceived without ye.

Without me? They cannot.

Without you? Nay, that's certain, for with431out you were so simple, none else would. But you are 432so without these follies, that these follies are within you, 433and shine through you like the water in a urinal, that 434not an eye that sees you but is a physician to comment 435on your malady.

But tell me, dost thou know my Lady Silvia?

She that you gaze on so as she sits at supper?

Hast thou observed that? Even she I mean.

Why sir, I know her not.

Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and 441yet knowst her not?

Is she not hard-favored, sir?

Not so fair, boy, as well-favored.

Sir, I know that well enough.

What dost thou know?

That she is not so fair, as (of you) well-fa447vored.

2.1.35ValentineI mean that her beauty is exquisite, 449but her favor infinite.

That's because the one is painted and the o451ther out of all count.

How painted? And how out of count?

Marry sir, so painted to make her fair that no 454man counts of her beauty.

How esteemst thou me? I account of her beauty.

You never saw her since she was deformed.

How long hath she been deformed?

Ever since you loved her.

I have loved her ever since I saw her, 460and still I see her beautiful.

If you love her, you cannot see her.

Why?

Because Love is blind. Oh, that you had mine 464eyes, or your own eyes had the lights they were wont 465to have, when you chid at Sir Proteus for going un466gartered.

What should I see then?

Your own present folly, and her passing de469formity. For he, being in love, could not see to garter 470his hose, and you, being in love, cannot see to put on 471your hose.

Belike, boy, then you are in love, for last morning 473you could not see to wipe my shoes.

True, sir, I was in love with my bed. I thank 475you, you swinged me for my love, which makes me the 476bolder to chide you for yours.

In conclusion, I stand affected to her.

I would you were set, so your affection would 479cease.

Last night she enjoined me 481to write some lines to one she loves.

And have you?

I have.

Are they not lamely writ?

No, boy, but as well as I can do them. 486Peace, here she comes.

O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet! 488Now will he interpret to her.

Madam and mistress, a thousand good-morrows.

Oh, give ye good e'en. Here's a million of 491manners.

Sir Valentine, and servant, to you two thousand.

He should give her interest, and she gives it him.

As you enjoined me, I have writ your letter

2.1.65495Unto the secret, nameless friend of yours,

2.1.66496Which I was much unwilling to proceed in,

2.1.67497But for my duty to your ladyship.

I thank you, gentle servant. 'Tis very clerkly done.

Now trust me, Madam, it came hardly off.

2.1.71500For being ignorant to whom it goes,

2.1.72501I writ at random, very doubtfully.

Perchance you think too much of so much pains?

No, Madam, so it stead you, I will write,

2.1.75504please you command, a thousand times as much.

2.1.76505And yet -

A pretty period. Well, I guess the sequel;

2.1.78507And yet I will not name it. And yet I care not.

2.1.79508And yet, take this again. [Offers him the letter.] And yet I thank you,

2.1.80509Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more.

And yet you will, and yet another yet.

What means your ladyship?

2.1.83512Do you not like it?

Yes, yes, the lines are very quaintly writ,

2.1.85514But, since unwillingly, take them again.

2.1.86515Nay, take them.

Madam, they are for you.

Ay, ay, you writ them, sir, at my request,

2.1.89518But I will none of them. They are for you.

2.1.90519I would have had them writ more movingly.

Please you, I'll write your ladyship another.

And when it's writ, for my sake read it over,

2.1.93522And if it please you, so. If not, why, so.

If it please me, madam? What then?

Why if it please you, take it for your labor.

2.1.96525And so, good-morrow, servant.

O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible,

2.1.99527As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple.

2.1.100528My master sues to her, and she hath taught her suitor,

2.1.101529He being her pupil, to become her tutor.

2.1.102530O excellent device, was there ever heard a better?

2.1.103531That my master being scribe,

That my master being scribe, 532To himself should write the letter?

How now, sir? 534What, are you reasoning with your self?

Nay, I was rhyming. 'Tis you that have the reason.

To do what?

To be a spokesman from Madam Silvia.

To whom?

To your self. Why, she woos you by a figure.

What figure?

By a letter, I should say.

Why, she hath not writ to me.

2.1.114What need she, 544when she hath made you write to your self? 545Why, do you not perceive the jest?

No, believe me.

No believing you indeed, sir. 548But did you perceive her earnest?

She gave me none, except an angry word.

Why, she hath given you a letter.

That's the letter I writ to her friend.

And that letter hath she delivered, and there an end.

I would it were no worse.

I'll warrant you, 'tis as well. 555For often have you writ to her, and she in modesty, 556or else for want of idle time, could not again reply. 557Or fearing else some messenger that might her mind discover, 558herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover. 559All this I speak in print, for in print I found it.

560Why muse you sir, 'tis dinner time.

I haue dined.

2.1.125Ay, but hearken, sir. Though the chameleon Love 563can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my 564victuals, and would fain have meat. Oh, be not like 565your mistress! Be moved! Be moved!

Have patience, gentle Julia.

I must where is no remedy.

When possibly I can, I will return.

If you turn not, you will return the sooner.

2.2.7572Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake.

Why then we'll make exchange;

2.2.9574Here, take you this.

And seal the bargain with a holy kiss.

Here is my hand, for my true constancy,

2.2.12577And when that hour o'er-slips me in the day,

2.2.13578Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake,

2.2.14579The next ensuing hour, some foul mischance

2.2.15580Torment me for my love's forgetfulness.

2.2.16581My father stays my coming. Answer not,

2.2.17582The tide is now. Nay, not thy tide of tears-

2.2.18583That tide will stay me longer then I should.

2.2.19584Julia, farewell. [Exit Julia]

2.2.20What, gone without a word?

2.2.21585Ay, so true love should do. It cannot speak,

2.2.22586For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.

Sir Proteus, you are stayed for.

Go, I come, I come.

2.2.26589Alas, this parting strikes poor lovers dumb.

Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done 594weeping. All the kind of the Lances have this very 595fault. I have received my proportion, like the prodigious 596son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's 597court. I think Crab my dog be the sourest natured 598dog that lives. My mother weeping, my father 599wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our 600cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great 601perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed 602one tear. He is a stone, a very pebble stone, and has no 603more pity in him than a dog. A Jew would have wept 604to have seen our parting. Why my Grandam, having 605no eyes, look you, wept her self blind at my parting. 606Nay, I'll shew you the manner of it. This shoe is my fa607ther. No, this left shoe is my father. No, no, this left 608shoe is my mother. Nay, that cannot be so neither. 609Yes, it is so, it is so: it hath the worser sole. This shoe 610with the hole in it is my mother, and this my father. 611A vengeance on't, there 'tis. Now, sir, this staff is my si612ster, for, look you, she is as white as a lily, and as 613small as a wand. This hat is Nan, our maid. I am the 614dog. No, the dog is himself, and I am the dog. 615Oh, the dog is me, and I am my self. Ay, so, so. Now 616come I to my father. "Father, your blessing." Now 617should not the shoe speak a word for weeping. 618Now should I kiss my father. Well, he weeps on. 619Now come I to my mother. Oh, that she could speak 620now, like a wood woman. Well, I kiss her. Why, 621there 'tis, here's my mother's breath up and down. 622Now come I to my sister. Mark the moan she makes. 623Now the dog all this while sheds not a tear, nor 624speaks a word. But see how I lay the dust with my 625tears.

Lance, away, away! Aboard! Thy master is 627shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's the 628matter? Why weep'st thou, man? Away, ass, you'll lose 629the tide if you tarry any longer.

It is no matter if the tied were lost, for it is the 631unkindest tied that ever any man tied.

What's the unkindest tide?

Why, he that's tied here, Crab, my dog.

Tut, man. I mean thou'lt lose the flood, and 635in losing the flood, lose thy voyage, and in losing thy 636voyage, lose thy master, and in losing thy master, 637lose thy service, and in losing thy service-

Why 638dost thou stop my mouth?

For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue.

Where should I lose my tongue?

In thy tale.

In thy tail.

Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the ma644ster, and the service, and the tide? Why, man, if the river 645were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the wind 646were down, I could drive the boat with my sighs.

Come, come away, man, I was sent to call 648thee.

Sir, call me what thou dar'st.

Wilt thou go?

Well, I will go.

Servant?

Mistress.

Master, Sir Turio frowns on you.

Ay, boy, it's for love.

Not of you.

Of my mistress, then.

'Twere good you knocked him.

Servant, you are sad.

Indeed, madam, I seem so.

Seem you that you are not?

Haply I do.

So do counterfeits.

So do you.

What seem I that I am not?

Wise.

What instance of the contrary?

Your folly.

And how quote you my folly?

I quote it in your jerkin.

My jerkin is a doublet.

Well then, I'll double your folly.

How?

What, angry, Sir Turio? Do you change color?

Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of chameleon.

That hath more mind to feed on your blood 680than live in your air.

You have said, sir.

Ay, sir, and done, too, for this time.

I know it well, sir. You always end ere you begin.

A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off

'Tis indeed, madam. We thank the giver.

Who is that, servant?

Your self, sweet lady, for you gave the fire.

2.4.35688Sir Turio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks

2.4.36689And spends what he borrows kindly in your company.

Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall 691make your wit bankrupt.

I know it well, sir. You have an exchequer of words, 693and, I think, no other treasure to give your followers, 694for it appears by their bare liveries 695that they live by your bare words.

2.4.40No more, gentlemen, no more. 697Here comes my father.

Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.

2.4.43699Sir Valentine, your father is in good health.

2.4.44700What say you to a letter from your friends

2.4.45701Of much good news?

My lord, I will be thankful

2.4.47703To any happy messenger from thence.

Know ye Don Antonio, your countryman?

Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman

2.4.50706To be of worth, and worthy estimation,

2.4.51707And not without desert so well reputed.

Hath he not a son?

Ay, my good lord, a son that well deserves

2.4.54710The honor and regard of such a father.

You know him well?

I knew him as my self, for from our infancy

2.4.57713We have conversed and spent our hours together,

2.4.58714And though my self have been an idle truant,

2.4.59715Omitting the sweet benefit of time

2.4.60716To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection,

2.4.61717Yet hath Sir Proteus, for that's his name,

2.4.62718Made use and fair advantage of his days:

2.4.63719His years but young, but his experience old;

2.4.64720His head un-mellowed, but his judgment ripe;

2.4.65721And in a word, for far behind his worth

2.4.66722Come all the praises that I now bestow,

2.4.67723He is complete in feature, and in mind,

2.4.68724With all good grace to grace a gentleman.

Beshrew me sir, but if he make this good

2.4.70726He is as worthy for an empress's love,

2.4.71727As meet to be an emperor's counselor:

2.4.72728Well, sir, this gentleman is come to me

2.4.73729With commendation from great potentates,

2.4.74730And here he means to spend his time a while.

2.4.75731I think 'tis no unwelcome news to you.

Should I have wished a thing, it had been he.

Welcome him, then, according to his worth.

2.4.78734Silvia, I speak to you, and you, Sir Turio;

2.4.79735For Valentine, I need not cite him to it.

2.4.80736I will send him hither to you presently.

This is the gentleman I told your ladyship

2.4.82738Had come along with me, but that his mistress

2.4.83739Did hold his eyes locked in her crystal looks.

Belike that now she hath enfranchised them

2.4.85741Upon some other pawn for fealty.

Nay, sure, I think she holds them prisoners still.

Nay, then, he should be blind, and being blind

2.4.88744How could he see his way to seek out you?

Why lady, Love hath twenty pair of eyes.

They say that Love hath not an eye at all.

To see such lovers, Turio, as your self.

2.4.92748Upon a homely object, Love can wink.

Have done, have done. Here comes the gentleman.

Welcome, dear Proteus. Mistress, I beseech you,

2.4.96751Confirm his welcome with some special favor.

His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,

2.4.98753If this be he you oft have wished to hear from.

Mistress, it is. Sweet Lady, entertain him

2.4.100755To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship.

Too low a mistress for so high a servant.

Not so, sweet lady, but too mean a servant

2.4.103758To have a look of such a worthy mistress.

Leave off discourse of disability:

2.4.105760Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant.

My duty will I boast of, nothing else.

And duty never yet did want his meed.

2.4.108763Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress.

I'll die on him that says so but your self.

That you are welcome?

That you are worthless.

Madam, my lord your father would speak with you.

I wait upon his pleasure. Come, Sir Turio,

2.4.115769Go with me. Once more, new servant, welcome.

2.4.116770I'll leave you to confer of home affairs.

2.4.117771When you have done, we look to hear from you.

We'll both attend upon your ladyship.

Now tell me: how do all from whence you came?

Your friends are well, and have thee much commended.

And how do yours?

I left them all in health.

How does your lady? And how thrives your love?

My tales of love were wont to weary you,

2.4.125779I know you joy not in a love-discourse.

Ay, Proteus, but that life is altered now,

2.4.127781I have done penance for contemning Love,

2.4.128782Whose high imperious thoughts have punished me

2.4.129783With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,

2.4.130784With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs,

2.4.131785For in revenge of my contempt of love,

2.4.132786Love hath chased sleep from my enthrallè eyes,

2.4.133787And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow.

2.4.134788O gentle Proteus, Love's a mighty lord,

2.4.135789And hath so humbled me, as I confess

2.4.136790There is no woe to his correction,

2.4.137791Nor to his service, no such joy on earth.

2.4.138792Now, no discourse, except it be of love.

2.4.139793Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep,

2.4.140794Upon the very naked name of love.

Enough, I read your fortune in your eye.

2.4.142796Was this the idol that you worship so?

Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint?

No, but she is an earthly paragon.

Call her divine.

I will not flatter her.

Oh flatter me! For Love delights in praises.

When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills,

2.4.149803And I must minister the like to you.

Then speak the truth by her; if not divine,

2.4.151805Yet let her be a principality,

2.4.152806Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth.

Except my mistress.

Sweet, except not any,

2.4.155809Except thou wilt except against my love.

Have I not reason to prefer mine own?

And I will help thee to prefer her too.

2.4.158812She shall be dignified with this high honor:

2.4.159813To bear my lady's train, lest the base earth

2.4.160814Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss

2.4.161815And of so great a favor growing proud,

2.4.162816Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower

2.4.163817And make rough winter everlastingly.

Why Valentine, what bragadism is this?

Pardon me, Proteus. All I can is nothing

2.4.166820To her, whose worth makes other worthies nothing.

2.4.167821She is alone.

Then let her alone.

Not for the world. Why, man, she is mine own,

2.4.170824And I as rich in having such a jewel

2.4.171825As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl,

2.4.172826The water, nectar, and the rocks pure gold.

2.4.173827Forgive me, that I do not dream on thee,

2.4.174828Because thou seest me dote upon my love.

2.4.175829My foolish rival, that her father likes

2.4.176830Only for his possessions are so huge,

2.4.177831Is gone with her along, and I must after,

2.4.178832For Love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy.

But she loves you?

Ay, and we are betrothed; nay more, our marriage hour,

2.4.181835With all the cunning manner of our flight

2.4.182836Determined of: how I must climb her window,

2.4.183837The ladder made of cords, and all the means

2.4.184838Plotted and 'greed on for my happiness.

2.4.185839Good Proteus, go with me to my chamber,

2.4.186840In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel.

Go on before; I shall enquire you forth.

2.4.188842I must unto the road to disembark

2.4.189843Some necessaries that I needs must use,

2.4.190844And then I'll presently attend you.

Will you make haste?

I will.

2.4.195847Even as one heat another heat expels,

2.4.196848Or as one nail by strength drives out another,

2.4.197849So the remembrance of my former love

2.4.198850Is by a newer object quite forgotten.

2.4.199851Is it mine, or Valentine's praise,

2.4.200852Her true perfection, or my false transgression

2.4.201853That makes me reasonless to reason thus?

2.4.202854She is fair, and so is Julia that I love -

2.4.203855That I did love, for now my love is thawed,

2.4.204856Which like a waxen image 'gainst a fire

2.4.205857Bears no impression of the thing it was.

2.4.206858Methinks my zeal to Valentine is cold,

2.4.207859And that I love him not as I was wont:

2.4.208860Oh, but I love his lady too too much,

2.4.209861And that's the reason I love him so little.

2.4.210862How shall I dote on her with more advice,

2.4.211863That thus without advice begin to love her?

2.4.212864'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld,

2.4.213865And that hath dazzled my reason's light.

2.4.214866But when I look on her perfections,

2.4.215867There is no reason, but I shall be blind.

2.4.216868If I can check my erring love, I will,

2.4.217869If not, to compass her I'll use my skill.

Lance, by mine honesty, welcome to Padua.

Forswear not thy self, sweet youth, for I am 875not welcome. I reckon this always, that a man is never 876undone till he be hanged, nor never welcome to a place 877till some certain shot be paid, and the hostess say wel878come.

Come on, you madcap. I'll to the alehouse 880with you presently, where, for one shot of five pence, 881thou shalt have five thousand welcomes. But sirrah, how 882did thy master part with Madam Julia?

Marry after they closed in earnest, they parted 884very fairly in jest.

But shall she marry him?

No.

How then? Shall he marry her?

No, neither.

What, are they broken?

No, they are both as whole as a fish.

Why then, how stands the matter with them?

Marry thus, when it stands well with him, it 893stands well with her.

What an ass art thou. I understand thee not.

What a block art thou, that thou canst not! 896My staff understands me.

What thou sayst?

Ay, and what I do too. Look thee, I'll but lean, 899and my staff understands me.

It stands under thee indeed.

Why, stand-under and under-stand is all one.

But tell me true, will't be a match?

Ask my dog, if he say Ay, it will; if he say 904no, it will; if he shake his tail, and say nothing, it 905will.

The conclusion is, then, that it will.

Thou shalt never get such a secret from me, but 908by a parable.

'Tis well that I get it so. But Lance, how sayst 910thou that my master is become a notable lover?

I never knew him otherwise.

Then how?

A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to 914be.

Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistak'st me,

Why fool, I meant not thee, I meant thy 917master.

I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover.

Why, I tell thee, I care not, though he burn 920himself in love. If thou wilt, go with me to the ale- 921house. If not, thou art a Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth 922the name of a Christian.

Why?

Because thou hast not so much charity in thee as 925to go to the ale with a Christian. Wilt thou go?

At thy service.

To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn?

2.6.4931To love faire Silvia, shall I be forsworn?

2.6.5932To wrong my friend I shall be much forsworn.

2.6.6933And ev'n that pow'r which gave me first my oath

2.6.7934Provokes me to this three-fold perjury.

2.6.8935Love bad me swear, and Love bids me forswear.

2.6.9936O sweet-suggesting Love, if thou hast sinned,

2.6.10937Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it.

2.6.11938At first I did adore a twinkling star,

2.6.12939But now I worship a celestial sun.

2.6.13940Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken,

2.6.14941And he wants wit that wants resolved will

2.6.15942To learn his wit t'exchange the bad for better.

2.6.16943Fie, fie, unreverend tongue, to call her bad

2.6.17944Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferred

2.6.18945With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths.

2.6.19946I cannot leave to love, and yet I do;

2.6.20947But there I leave to love where I should love.

2.6.21948Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose.

2.6.22949If I keep them, I needs must lose my self.

2.6.23950If I lose them, thus find I by their loss:

2.6.24951For Valentine, my self; for Julia, Silvia.

2.6.25952I to my self am dearer than a friend,

2.6.26953For love is still most precious in itself,

2.6.27954And Silvia, witness heaven that made her fair,

2.6.28955Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.

2.6.29956I will forget that Julia is alive,

2.6.30957Rememb'ring that my love to her is dead.

2.6.31958And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,

2.6.32959Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.

2.6.33960I cannot now prove constant to my self

2.6.34961Without some treachery used to Valentine.

2.6.35962This night he meaneth with a corded ladder

2.6.36963To climb celestial Silvia's chamber window,

2.6.37964Myself in counsel his competitor.

2.6.38965Now presently I'll give her father notice

2.6.39966Of their disguising and pretended flight,

2.6.40967Who, all enraged, will banish Valentine,

2.6.41968For Turio he intends shall wed his daughter.

2.6.42969But Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross

2.6.43970By some sly trick blunt Turio's dull proceeding.

2.6.44971Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift,

2.6.45972As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift.

Counsel, Lucetta. Gentle girl, assist me,

2.7.4977And ev'n in kind love I do conjure thee,

2.7.5978Who art the table wherein all my thoughts

2.7.6979Are visibly charactered and engraved,

2.7.7980To lesson me and tell me some good mean

2.7.8981How with my honor I may undertake

2.7.9982A journey to my loving Proteus.

Alas, the way is wearisome and long.

A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary

2.7.12985To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;

2.7.13986Much less shall she that hath Love's wings to fly,

2.7.14987And when the flight is made to one so dear,

2.7.15988Of such divine perfection as Sir Proteus.

Better forbear till Proteus make return.

Oh, know'st thou not his looks are my soul's food?

2.7.18991Pity the dearth that I have pined in

2.7.19992By longing for that food so long a time.

2.7.20993Didst thou but know the inly touch of love,

2.7.21994Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow

2.7.22995As seek to quench the fire of love with words.

I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire,

2.7.24997But qualify the fire's extreme rage,

2.7.25998Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.

The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns:

2.7.271000The current that with gentle murmur glides,

2.7.281001Thou know'st, being stopped, impatiently doth rage;

2.7.291002But when his fair course is not hindered,

2.7.301003He makes sweet music with th'enameled stones,

2.7.311004Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge

2.7.321005He overtaketh in his pilgrimage,

2.7.331006And so by many winding nooks he strays

2.7.341007With willing sport to the wild ocean.

2.7.351008Then let me go, and hinder not my course.

2.7.361009I'll be as patient as a gentle stream

2.7.371010And make a pastime of each weary step,

2.7.381011Till the last step have brought me to my love,

2.7.391012And there I'll rest, as after much turmoil

2.7.401013A blessed soul doth in Elysium.

But in what habit will you go along?

Not like a woman, for I would prevent

2.7.431016The loose encounters of lascivious men.

2.7.441017Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds

2.7.451018As may beseem some well-reputed page.

Why then your ladyship must cut your hair.

No, girl, I'll knit it up in silken strings,

2.7.481021With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots.

2.7.491022To be fantastic may become a youth

2.7.501023Of greater time then I shall show to be.

What fashion, madam, shall I make your breeches?

That fits as well as tell me, good my Lord.

2.7.531026What compass will you wear your farthingale?

2.7.541027Why ev'n what fashion thou best likes, Lucetta.

You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam.

Out, out, Lucetta! That will be ill-favored.

A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin

2.7.581031Unlesse you have a codpiece to stick pins on.

Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have

2.7.601033What thou think'st meet and is most mannerly.

2.7.611034But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me

2.7.621035For undertaking so unstaid a journey?

2.7.631036I fear me it will make me scandalized.

If you think so, then stay at home and go not.

Nay, that I will not.

Then never dream on infamy, but go.

2.7.671040If Proteus like your journey when you come,

2.7.681041No matter who's displeased when you are gone.

2.7.691042I fear me he will scarce be pleased withal.

That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear.

2.7.711044A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears,

2.7.721045And instances of infinite of love,

2.7.731046Warrant me welcome to my Proteus.

All these are servants to deceitful men.

Base men, that use them to so base effect.

2.7.761049But truer stars did govern Proteus's birth.

2.7.771050His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles,

2.7.781051His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate,

2.7.791052His tears, pure messengers sent from his heart,

2.7.801053His heart, as far from fraud as heav'n from earth.

Pray heav'n he prove so when you come to him.

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

2.7.831056To bear a hard opinion of his truth.

2.7.841057Only deserve my love by loving him,

2.7.851058And presently go with me to my chamber

2.7.861059To take a note of what I stand in need of,

2.7.871060To furnish me upon my longing journey.

2.7.881061All that is mine I leave at thy dispose,

2.7.891062My goods, my lands, my reputation;

2.7.901063Only, in lieu thereof, dispatch me hence.

2.7.911064Come, answer not, but to it presently,

2.7.921065I am impatient of my tarriance.

Sir Turio, give us leave, I pray, a while;

3.1.51071We have some secrets to confer about. [Exit Turio.]

3.1.61072Now tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me?

My gracious lord, that which I would discover

3.1.81074The law of friendship bids me to conceal.

3.1.91075But when I call to mind your gracious favours

3.1.101076Done to me, undeserving as I am,

3.1.111077My duty pricks me on to utter that

3.1.121078Which else no worldly good should draw from me.

3.1.131079Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine, my friend,

3.1.141080This night intends to steal away your daughter.

3.1.151081Myself am one made privy to the plot.

3.1.161082I know you have determined to bestow her

3.1.171083On Turio, whom your gentle daughter hates,

3.1.181084And should she thus be stol'n away from you,

3.1.191085It would be much vexation to your age.

3.1.201086Thus, for my duties sake, I rather chose

3.1.211087To cross my friend in his intended drift

3.1.221088Than by concealing it heap on your head

3.1.231089A pack of sorrows, which would press you down,

3.1.241090Being unprevented, to your timeless grave.

Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care,

3.1.261092Which to requite, command me while I live.

3.1.271093This love of theirs myself have often seen,

3.1.281094Haply when they have judged me fast asleep,

3.1.291095And oftentimes have purposed to forbid

3.1.301096Sir Valentine her company, and my Court.

3.1.311097But fearing lest my jealous aim might err,

3.1.321098And so, unworthily, disgrace the man,

3.1.331099A rashness that I ever yet have shunned,

3.1.341100I gave him gentle looks, thereby to find

3.1.351101That which thyself hast now disclosed to me.

3.1.361102And that thou mayst perceive my fear of this,

3.1.371103Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested,

3.1.381104I nightly lodge her in an upper tower,

3.1.391105The key whereof myself have ever kept;

3.1.401106And thence she cannot be conveyed away.

Know, noble Lord, they have devised a mean

3.1.421108How he her chamber-window will ascend,

3.1.431109And with a corded ladder fetch her down;

3.1.441110For which the youthful lover now is gone,

3.1.451111And this way comes he with it presently,

3.1.461112Where if it please you you may intercept him.

3.1.471113But, good my lord, do it so cunningly

3.1.481114That my discovery be not aimed at.

3.1.491115For love of you, not hate unto my friend,

3.1.501116Hath made me publisher of this pretence.

Upon mine honor, he shall never know

3.1.521118That I had any light from thee of this.

Adieu, my Lord, Sir Valentine is coming.

Sir Valentine, whither away so fast?

Please it your Grace, there is a messenger

3.1.571122That stays to bear my letters to my friends,

3.1.581123And I am going to deliver them.

Be they of much import?

The tenor of them doth but signify

3.1.611126My health and happy being at your Court.

Nay then, no matter, stay with me a while;

3.1.631128I am to break with thee of some affairs

3.1.641129That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret.

3.1.651130'Tis not unknown to thee that I have sought

3.1.661131To match my friend Sir Turio to my daughter.

I know it well, my lord, and sure the match

3.1.681133Were rich and honorable. Besides, the gentleman

3.1.691134Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities

3.1.701135Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter.

3.1.711136Cannot your grace win her to fancy him?

No, trust me, she is peevish, sullen, froward,

3.1.731138Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty,

3.1.741139Neither regarding that she is my child,

3.1.751140Nor fearing me, as if I were her father;

3.1.761141And may I say to thee, this pride of hers,

3.1.771142Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her,

3.1.781143And where I thought the remnant of mine age

3.1.791144Should have been cherished by her childlike duty,

3.1.801145I now am full resolved to take a wife

3.1.811146And turn her out to who will take her in.

3.1.821147Then let her beauty be her wedding dow'r,

3.1.831148For me and my possessions she esteems not.

What would your grace have me to do in this?

There is a lady of Verona here

3.1.861151Whom I affect, but she is nice, and coy,

3.1.871152And naught esteems my aged eloquence.

3.1.881153Now therefore would I have thee to my tutor -

3.1.891154For long agone I have forgot to court;

3.1.901155Besides, the fashion of the time is changed -

3.1.911156How and which way I may bestow my self

3.1.921157To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.

Win her with gifts if she respect not words.

3.1.941159Dumb jewels often in their silent kind

3.1.951160More than quick words do move a woman's mind.

But she did scorn a present that I sent her;

A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her.

3.1.981163Send her another; never give her o'er,

3.1.991164For scorn at first makes after-love the more.

3.1.1001165If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,

3.1.1011166But rather to beget more love in you.

3.1.1021167If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone,

3.1.1031168For why the fools are mad if left alone.

3.1.1041169Take no repulse, what ever she doth say:

3.1.1051170For "Get you gone" she doth not mean "Away."

3.1.1061171Flatter, and praise, commend, extol their graces;

3.1.1071172Though ne'er so black, say they have angel's faces,

3.1.1081173That man that hath a tongue I say is no man,

3.1.1091174If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

But she I mean is promised by her friends

3.1.1111176Unto a youthful gentleman of worth

3.1.1121177And kept severely from resort of men,

3.1.1131178That no man hath access by day to her.

Why then I would resort to her by night.

Ay, but the doors be locked and keys kept safe,

3.1.1161181That no man hath recourse to her by night.

What lets but one may enter at her window?

Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground,

3.1.1191184And built so shelving that one cannot climb it

3.1.1201185Without apparent hazard of his life.

Why then a ladder quaintly made of cords

3.1.1221187To cast up with a pair of anchoring hooks

3.1.1231188Would serve to scale another Hero's tow'r,

3.1.1241189So bold Leander would adventure it.

Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood,

3.1.1261191Advise me where I may have such a ladder.

When would you use it? Pray, sir, tell me that.

This very night, for Love is like a child

3.1.1291194That longs for every thing that he can come by.

By seven o'clock I'll get you such a ladder.

But hark thee, I will go to her alone.

3.1.1321197How shall I best convey the ladder thither?

It will be light, my lord, that you may bear it

3.1.1341199Under a cloak that is of any length.

A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn?

Ay, my good lord.

Then let me see thy cloak.

3.1.1381203I'll get me one of such another length.

Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord.

How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak?

3.1.1411206I pray thee let me feel thy cloak upon me.

3.1.1431207What letter is this same? What's here? "To Silvia"?

3.1.1441208And here an engine fit for my proceeding.

3.1.1451209I'll be so bold to break the seal for once.

3.1.1561220What's here?

3.1.157 "Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee."

1221'Tis so, and here's the ladder for the purpose.

3.1.1581222Why, Phaeton, for thou art Merop's son,

3.1.1591223Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car

3.1.1601224And with thy daring folly burn the world?

3.1.1611225Wilt thou reach stars because they shine on thee?

3.1.1621226Go, base intruder, overweening slave,

3.1.1631227Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates,

3.1.1641228And think my patience, more then thy desert,

3.1.1651229Is privilege for thy departure hence.

3.1.1661230Thank me for this, more then for all the favors

3.1.1671231Which, all too much, I have bestowed on thee.

3.1.1681232But if thou linger in my territories

3.1.1691233Longer than swiftest expedition

3.1.1701234Will give thee time to leave our royal court,

3.1.1711235By heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the love

3.1.1721236I ever bore my daughter or thy self.

3.1.1731237Be gone! I will not hear thy vain excuse,

3.1.1741238But as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence. [Exit Duke.]

And why not death, rather than living torment?

3.1.1761240To die is to be banished from myself,

3.1.1771241And Silvia is my self; banished from her

3.1.1781242Is self from self, a deadly banishment.

3.1.1791243What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?

3.1.1801244What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?

3.1.1811245Unless it be to think that she is by

3.1.1821246And feed upon the shadow of perfection.

3.1.1831247Except I be by Silvia in the night,

3.1.1841248There is no music in the nightingale.

3.1.1851249Unless I look on Silvia in the day,

3.1.1861250There is no day for me to look upon.

3.1.1871251She is my essence, and I leave to be

3.1.1881252If I be not by her fair influence

3.1.1891253Fostered, illumined, cherished, kept alive.

3.1.1901254I fly not death to fly his deadly doom.

3.1.1911255Tarry I here, I but attend on death,

3.1.1921256But fly I hence, I fly away from life.

Run, boy, run, run and seek him out.

So-ho! So ho!

What seest thou?

Him we go to find. 1261There's not a hair on's head, but 'tis a Valentine.

Valentine?

No.

Who then? His spirit?

Neither.

What then?

Nothing.

Can nothing speak? Master, shall I strike?

Who wouldst thou strike?

Nothing.

Villain, forbear.

Why Sir, I'll strike nothing. I pray you -

Sirrah, I say forbear. Friend Valentine, a word.

My ears are stopped and cannot hear good news,

3.1.2111275So much of bad already hath possessed them.

Then in dumb silence will I bury mine,

3.1.2131277For they are harsh, untuneable, and bad.

Is Silvia dead?

No, Valentine.

No Valentine indeed, for sacred Silvia.

3.1.2171281Hath she forsworn me?

No, Valentine.

No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me.

3.1.2201284What is your news?

Sir, there is a proclamation that you are vanished.

That thou art banished - Oh, that's the news -

3.1.2231287From hence, from Silvia, and from me, thy friend.

Oh, I have fed upon this woe already,

3.1.2251289And now excess of it will make me surfeit.

3.1.2261290Doth Silvia know that I am banished?

Ay, ay, and she hath offered to the doom,

3.1.2281292Which unreversed stands in effectual force,

3.1.2291293A sea of melting pearl which some call tears;

3.1.2301294Those at her father's churlish feet she tendered;

3.1.2311295With them, upon her knees, her humble self,

3.1.2321296Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them

3.1.2331297As if but now they waxed pale for woe.

3.1.2341298But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,

3.1.2351299Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears

3.1.2361300Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire,

3.1.2371301But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die.

3.1.2381302Besides, her intercession chafed him so,

3.1.2391303When she for thy repeal was suppliant,

3.1.2401304That to close prison he commanded her,

3.1.2411305With many bitter threats of biding there.

No more, unless the next word that thou speak'st

3.1.2431307Have some malignant power upon my life.

3.1.2441308If so, I pray thee breath it in mine ear

3.1.2451309As ending anthem of my endless dolor.

Cease to lament for that thou canst not help

3.1.2471311And study help for that which thou lament'st.

3.1.2481312Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.

3.1.2491313Here, if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love;

3.1.2501314Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.

3.1.2511315Hope is a lover's staff. Walk hence with that

3.1.2521316And manage it against despairing thoughts.

3.1.2531317Thy letters may be here though thou art hence,

3.1.2541318Which, being writ to me, shall be delivered

3.1.2551319Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.

3.1.2561320The time now serves not to expostulate.

3.1.2571321Come, I'll convey thee through the city gate,

3.1.2581322And ere I part with thee confer at large

3.1.2591323Of all that may concern thy love affairs.

3.1.2601324As thou lov'st Silvia, though not for thy self,

3.1.2611325Regard thy danger and along with me.

I pray thee Lance, and if thou seest my boy,

3.1.2631327Bid him make haste and meet me at the north gate.

Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine.

Oh, my dear Silvia! Hapless Valentine!

I am but a fool, look you, and yet I have 1331the wit to think my master is a kind of a knave; but 1332that's all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now 1333that knows me to be in love, yet I am in love; but a 1334team of horse shall not pluck that from me, nor who 1335'tis I love; and yet 'tis a woman; but what woman, I 1336will not tell my self; and yet 'tis a milk-maid; yet 'tis 1337not a maid, for she hath had gossips; yet 'tis a maid, 1338for she is her master's maid and serves for wages. She 1339hath more qualities than a water-spaniel, which is 1340much in a bare Christian. [Pulls out a paper.] Here is the cate-log of her 1341condition. [Reads.] Imprimis, she can fetch and carry. Why,1342a horse can do no more. Nay, a horse cannot fetch, but 1343only carry; therefore is she better then a jade. Item, 1344she can milk. Look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with 1345clean hands.

How now Signor Lance? What news with 1347your mastership?

With my master's ship? Why, it is at sea.

Well, your old vice still: mistake the word. What 1350news, then, in your paper?

The black'st news that ever thou heard'st.

Why, man? How black?

Why, as black as ink.

Let me read them?

Fie on thee, jolt-head, thou canst not read.

Thou liest! I can.

I will try thee. Tell me this: who begot thee?

Marry, the son of my grandfather.

O illiterate loiterer, it was the son of thy 1360grandmother. This proves that thou canst not read.

Come, fool, come. Try me in thy paper.

There, and Saint Nicholas be thy speed.

"Imprimis, she can milk."

Ay, that she can.

"Item, she brews good ale."

And thereof comes the proverb, "Blessing of 1367your heart, you brew good ale."

"Item, she can sew."

That's as much as to say, "Can she so?"

"Item, she can knit."

What need a man care for a stock with a wench 1372when she can knit him a stock?

"Item, she can wash and scour."

A special virtue, for then she need not be 1375washed and scoured.

"Item, she can spin."

Then may I set the world on wheels, when she 1378can spin for her living.

"Item, she hath many nameless virtues."

That's as much as to say "bastard virtues," that 1381indeed know not their fathers, and therefore have no 1382names.

Here follow her vices.

Close at the heels of her virtues.

"Item, she is not to be fasting in respect of her 1386breath."

Well, that fault may be mended with a break1388fast. Read on.

"Item, she hath a sweet mouth."

That makes amends for her sour breath.

"Item, she doth talk in her sleep."

It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her 1393talk.

"Item, she is slow in words."

O villain, that set this down among her vices! 1396To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue. 1397I pray thee, out with't and place it for her chief virtue.

"Item, she is proud."

Out with that too. 1400It was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her.

"Item, she hath no teeth."

I care not for that neither, because I love crusts.

"Item, she is curst."

Well, the best is, she hath no teeth to bite.

"Item, she will often praise her liquor."

If her liquor be good, she shall. If she will not, 1407I will, for good things should be praised.

"Item, she is too liberal."

Of her tongue she cannot, for that's writ down 1410she is slow of. Of her purse, she shall not, for that I'll 1411keep shut. Now, of another thing she may, and that 1412cannot I help. Well, proceed.

"Item, she hath more hair than wit, and more 1414faults then hairs, and more wealth then faults."

Stop there, I'll have her. She was mine and not 1416mine twice or thrice in that last article. Rehearse that 1417once more.

"Item, she hath more hair than wit."

More hair than wit. It may be. I'll prove it: The 1420cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it is more 1421then the salt; the hair that covers the wit, is more 1422than the wit, for the greater hides the less. What's 1423next?

"And more faults than hairs."

That's monstrous. Oh, that that were out.

"And more wealth than faults."

Why, that word makes the faults gracious. 1428Well, I'll have her; and if it be a match, as nothing is 1429impossible -

What then?

Why, then will I tell thee that thy master stays 1432for the at the north gate.

For me?

For thee? Ay, who art thou? He hath stayed for a bet1435ter man than thee.

And must I go to him?

Thou must run to him, for thou hast stayed so long 1438that going will scarce serve the turn.

Why didst not tell me sooner? Pox of your love 1440letters.

3.1.331Now will he be swinged for reading my letter. 1442An unmannerly slave that will thrust himself into se1443crets. I'll after to rejoice in the boy's correction.

Sir Turio, fear not but that she will love you

3.2.41447Now Valentine is banished from her sight.

Since his exile she hath despised me most,

3.2.61449Forsworn my company, and railed at me,

3.2.71450That I am desperate of obtaining her.

This weak impress of love is as a figure

3.2.91452Trenched in ice, which with an hour's heat

3.2.101453Dissolves to water and doth lose his form.

3.2.111454A little time will melt her frozen thoughts,

3.2.121455And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.

3.2.141456How now, Sir Proteus, is your countryman,

3.2.151457According to our proclamation, gone?

Gone, my good lord.

My daughter takes his going grievously?

A little time, my lord, will kill that grief.

So I believe, but Turio thinks not so.

3.2.201462Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee,

3.2.211463For thou hast shown some sign of good desert,

3.2.221464Makes me the better to confer with thee.

Longer than I prove loyal to your grace

3.2.241466Let me not live to look upon your grace.

Thou know'st how willingly I would effect

3.2.261468The match between sir Turio and my daughter?

I do, my lord.

And also, I think, thou art not ignorant

3.2.291471How she opposes her against my will?

She did, my lord, when Valentine was here.

Ay, and perversely she perseveres so.

3.2.321474What might we do to make the girl forget

3.2.331475The love of Valentine and love sir Turio?

The best way is to slander Valentine

3.2.351477With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent,

3.2.361478Three things that women highly hold in hate.

Ay, but she'll think that it is spoke in hate.

Ay, if his enemy deliver it.

3.2.391481Therefore it must with circumstance be spoken

3.2.401482By one whom she esteemeth as his friend.

Then you must undertake to slander him.

And that, my Lord, I shall be loath to do.

3.2.431485'Tis an ill office for a gentleman,

3.2.441486Especially against his very friend.

Where your good word cannot advantage him,

3.2.461488Your slander never can endamage him;

3.2.471489Therefore the office is indifferent,

3.2.481490Being entreated to it by your friend.

You have prevailed, my lord. If I can do it

3.2.501492By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,

3.2.511493She shall not long continue love to him.

3.2.521494But say this weed her love from Valentine.

3.2.531495It follows not that she will love sir Turio.

Therefore, as you unwind her love from him,

3.2.551497Lest it should ravel and be good to none,

3.2.561498You must provide to bottom it on me,

3.2.571499Which must be done by praising me as much

3.2.581500As you in worth dispraise sir Valentine.

And Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind

3.2.601502Because we know, on Valentine's report,

3.2.611503You are already love's firm votary

3.2.621504And cannot soon revolt and change your mind.

3.2.631505Upon this warrant shall you have access

3.2.641506Where you with Silvia may confer at large -

3.2.651507For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy,

3.2.661508And, for your friend's sake, will be glad of you -

3.2.671509Where you may temper her, by your persuasion,

3.2.681510To hate young Valentine and love my friend.

As much as I can do, I will effect:

3.2.701512But you, sir Turio, are not sharpe enough.

3.2.711513You must lay lime to tangle her desires

3.2.721514By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes

3.2.731515Should be full fraught with serviceable vows.

Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred poesy.

Say that upon the altar of her beauty

3.2.761518You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart.

3.2.771519Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears

3.2.781520Moist it again, and frame some feeling line

3.2.791521That may discover such integrity;

3.2.801522For Orpheus's lute was strung with poets' sinews

3.2.811523Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,

3.2.821524Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans

3.2.831525Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.

3.2.841526After your dire-lamenting elegies,

3.2.851527Visit by night your lady's chamber window

3.2.861528With some sweet consort. To their instruments

3.2.871529Tune a deploring dump. The night's dead silence

3.2.881530Will well become such sweet complaining grievance.

3.2.891531This, or else nothing, will inherit her.

This discipline shows thou hast been in love.

And thy advice this night I'll put in practice.

3.2.921534Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver,

3.2.931535Let us into the city presently

3.2.941536To sort some gentlemen well skilled in music.

3.2.951537I have a sonnet that will serve the turn

3.2.961538To give the onset to thy good advice.

About it, gentlemen.

We'll wait upon your grace till after supper

3.2.991541And afterward determine our proceedings.

Even now about it; I will pardon you.

Fellows, stand fast! I see a passenger.

If there be ten, shrink not, but down with 'em.

Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about ye.

4.1.61548If not, we'll make you sit and rifle you.

Sir, we are undone; these are the villains

4.1.81550That all the travelers do fear so much.

My friends.

That's not so, sir. We are your enemies.

Peace, we'll hear him.

Ay, by my beard will we, for he is a proper man.

4.1.131555Then know that I have little wealth to lose;

4.1.141556A man I am, crossed with adversity;

4.1.151557My riches are these poor habiliments,

4.1.161558Of which, if you should here disfurnish me,

4.1.171559You take the sum and substance that I have.

Whither travel you?

To Verona.

Whence came you?

From Milan.

Have you long sojourned there?

Some sixteen months, and longer might have stayed

4.1.241566If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.

What, were you banished thence?

I was.

For what offence?

For that which now torments me to rehearse;

4.1.291571I killed a man, whose death I much repent;

4.1.301572But yet I slew him manfully in fight,

4.1.311573Without false vantage or base treachery.

Why ne'er repent it, if it were done so;

4.1.331575But were you banished for so small a fault?

I was, and held me glad of such a doom.

Have you the tongues?

My youthful travel therein made me happy,

4.1.371579Or else I often had been miserable.

By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar,

4.1.391581This fellow were a king for our wild faction.

We'll have him. Sirs, a word.

Master, be one of them. 1584It's an honorable kind of thievery.

Peace, villain.

Tell us this: have you any thing to take to?

Nothing but my fortune.

Know then that some of us are gentlemen,

4.1.471589Such as the fury of ungoverned youth

4.1.481590Thrust from the company of awful men.

4.1.491591Myself was from Verona banished,

4.1.501592For practising to steal away a lady,

4.1.511593An heir, and near allied unto the Duke.

And I from Mantua for a gentleman

4.1.531595Who, in my mood, I stabbed unto the heart.

And I, for such like petty crimes as these.

4.1.551597But to the purpose, for we cite our faults

4.1.561598That they may hold excused our lawless lives,

4.1.571599And partly, seeing you are beautified

4.1.581600With goodly shape, and by your own report

4.1.591601A linguist, and a man of such perfection

4.1.601602As we do in our quality much want -

Indeed because you are a banished man,

4.1.621604Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you.

4.1.631605Are you content to be our general?

4.1.641606To make a virtue of necessity,

4.1.651607And live as we do in this wilderness?

What sayst thou? Wilt thou be of our consort?

4.1.671609Say "Ay," and be the captain of us all.

4.1.681610We'll do thee homage and be ruled by thee,

4.1.691611Love thee as our commander and our king.

But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest.

Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offered.

I take your offer, and will live with you,

4.1.731615Provided that you do no outrages

4.1.741616On silly women or poor passengers.

No, we detest such vile base practices.

4.1.761618Come, go with us. We'll bring thee to our crews

4.1.771619And show thee all the treasure we have got

4.1.781620Which, with our selves, all rest at thy dispose.

Already have I been false to Valentine,

4.2.41624And now I must be as unjust to Turio.

4.2.51625Under the color of commending him,

4.2.61626I have access my own love to prefer.

4.2.71627But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy

4.2.81628To be corrupted with my worthless gifts;

4.2.91629When I protest true loyalty to her,

4.2.101630She twits me with my falsehood to my friend;

4.2.111631When to her beauty I commend my vows,

4.2.121632She bids me think how I have been forsworn

4.2.131633In breaking faith with Julia, whom I loved;

4.2.141634And notwithstanding all her sudden quips,

4.2.151635The least whereof would quell a lover's hope,

4.2.161636Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love,

4.2.171637The more it grows, and fawneth on her still;

4.2.181638But here comes Turio. Now must we to her window

4.2.191639And give some evening music to her ear.

How now, sir Proteus, are you crept before us?

Ay, gentle Turio, for you know that love

4.2.221642Will creep in service where it cannot go.

Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here.

Sir, but I do, or else I would be hence.

Who, Silvia?

Ay, Silvia, for your sake.

I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen,

4.2.281648Let's tune, and to it lustily a while.

Now, my young guest, methinks you're allycholy; 1650I pray you why is it?

Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry.

Come, we'll have you merry. I'll bring you where 1653you shall hear music and see the gentleman that 1654you asked for.

But shall I hear him speak?

Ay, that you shall.

That will be music.

Hark, hark!

Is he among these?

Ay, but peace, let's hear'm.

4.2.57How now? Are you sadder than you were before? 1677How do you, man? The music likes you not.

You mistake: the musician likes me not.

Why, my pretty youth?

He plays false, father.

How, out of tune on the strings?

Not so, but yet 1683so false that he grieves my very heartstrings.

You have a quick ear.

Ay, I would I were deaf; it makes me have a slow heart.

I perceive you delight not in music.

Not a whit when it jars so.

Hark, what fine change is in the music.

Ay, that change is the spite.

You would have them always play but one thing.

I would always have one play but one thing.

4.2.711692But host, doth this Sir Proteus that we talk on

4.2.721693Often resort unto this gentlewoman?

I tell you what Lance his man told me: 1695he loved her out of all nick.

Where is Lance?

Gone to seek his dog, which tomorrow, by his 1698master's command, he must carry for a present to his 1699lady.

Peace. Stand aside, the company parts.

Sir Turio, fear not you. I will so plead 1702that you shall say my cunning drift excels.

Where meet we?

At Saint Gregory's well.

Farewell.

Madam, good even to your ladyship.

I thank you for your music, gentlemen.

4.2.841708Who is that that spake?

One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth,

4.2.861710You would quickly learn to know him by his voice.

Sir Proteus, as I take it.

Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant.

What's your will?

That I may compass yours.

You have your wish. My will is even this:

4.2.921716That presently you hie you home to bed,

4.2.931717Thou subtle, perjured, false, disloyal man.

4.2.941718Think'st thou I am so shallow, so conceitless,

4.2.951719To be seduced by thy flattery,

4.2.961720That hast deceived so many with thy vows?

4.2.971721Return, return and make thy love amends.

4.2.981722For me, by this pale queen of night I swear,

4.2.991723I am so far from granting thy request

4.2.1001724That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit,

4.2.1011725And by and by intend to chide myself

4.2.1021726Even for this time I spend in talking to thee.

I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady,

4.2.1041728But she is dead.

'Twere false, if I should speak it,

4.2.1061730For I am sure she is not buried.

Say that she be, yet Valentine thy friend

4.2.1081732Survives, to whom, thyself art witness,

4.2.1091733I am betrothed; and art thou not ashamed

4.2.1101734To wrong him with thy importunacy?

I likewise hear that Valentine is dead.

And so suppose am I, for in his grave

4.2.1131737Assure thy self my love is buried.

Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth.

Go to thy lady's grave and call hers thence,

4.2.1161740Or at the least in hers sepulcher thine.

[Aside.] He heard not that.

Madam, if your heart be so obdurate,

4.2.1191743Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love,

4.2.1201744The picture that is hanging in your chamber.

4.2.1211745To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep,

4.2.1221746for since the substance of your perfect self

4.2.1231747Is else devoted, I am but a shadow,

4.2.1241748And to your shadow will I make true love.

[Aside.] If 'twere a substance you would sure deceive it,

4.2.1261750And make it but a shadow, as I am.

I am very loath to be your idol, sir;

4.2.1281752But since your falsehood shall become you well

4.2.1291753To worship shadows and adore false shapes,

4.2.1301754Send to me in the morning, and I'll send it.

4.2.1311755And so, good rest.

As wretches have o'er night

4.2.1331757That wait for execution in the morn.

Host, will you go?

By my halidom, I was fast asleep.

Pray you, where lies Sir Proteus?

Marry, at my house. 1762Trust me, I think 'tis almost day.

4.2.1381763JuliaNot so, but it hath been the longest night

4.2.1391764That ere I watched, and the most heaviest.

This is the hour that Madam Silvia

4.3.41768Entreated me to call and know her mind.

4.3.51769There's some great matter she'd employ me in.

4.3.61770Madam, madam!

Who calls?

Your servant and your friend;

4.3.101773One that attends your ladyship's command.

Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good morrow.

As many, worthy lady, to your self.

4.3.131776According to your ladyship's impose,

4.3.141777I am thus early come to know what service

4.3.151778It is your pleasure to command me in.

O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman -

4.3.171780Think not I flatter, for I swear I do not -

4.3.181781Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplished.

4.3.191782Thou art not ignorant what dear good will

4.3.201783I bear unto the banished Valentine,

4.3.211784Nor how my father would enforce me marry

4.3.221785Vain Turio, whom my very soul abhors.

4.3.231786Thy self hast loved, and I have heard thee say

4.3.241787No grief did ever come so near thy heart

4.3.251788As when thy lady and thy true love died,

4.3.261789Upon whose grave thou vowed'st pure chastity.

4.3.271790Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine,

4.3.281791To Mantua, where I hear he makes abode;

4.3.291792And for the ways are dangerous to pass,

4.3.301793I do desire thy worthy company,

4.3.311794Upon whose faith and honor I repose.

4.3.321795Urge not my father's anger, Eglamour,

4.3.331796But think upon my grief, a lady's grief,

4.3.341797And on the justice of my flying hence

4.3.351798To keep me from a most unholy match,

4.3.361799Which heaven and fortune still rewards with plagues.

4.3.371800I do desire thee, even from a heart

4.3.381801As full of sorrows as the sea of sands,

4.3.391802To bear me company and go with me.

4.3.401803If not, to hide what I have said to thee,

4.3.411804That I may venture to depart alone.

Madam, I pity much your grievances,

4.3.431806Which, since I know they virtuously are placed,

4.3.441807I give consent to go along with you,

4.3.451808Recking as little what betideth me

4.3.461809As much I wish all good befortune you.

1810When will you go?

This evening coming.

Where shall I meet you?

4.3.50At Friar Patrick's cell, 1814Where I intend holy confession.

4.3.52I will not fail your ladyship. 1816Good morrow, gentle lady.

Good morrow, kind Sir Eglamour.

When a man's servant shall play the cur with 1821him, look you, it goes hard - one that I brought up of 1822a puppy; one that I saved from drowning when three or 1823four of his blind brothers and sisters went to it. I have 1824taught him, even as one would say precisely, "Thus I 1825would teach a dog." I was sent to deliver him as a pre1826sent to Mistress Silvia from my master, and I came no 1827sooner into the dining-chamber, but he steps me to her 1828trencher and steals her capon's leg. Oh, 'tis a foul 1829thing when a cur cannot keep himself in all compa1830nies. I would have, as one should say, one that takes up1831on him to be a dog indeed, to be, as it were, a dog at all 1832things. If I had not had more wit then he, to take a fault 1833upon me that he did, I think verily he had been hanged 1834for't. Sure as I live, he had suffered for't. You shall judge: 1835he thrusts me himself into the company of three or 1836four gentleman-like-dogs under the Duke's table. He 1837had not been there, bless the mark, a pissing while, but 1838all the chamber smelt him. "Out with the dog!" says one. 1839"What cur is that?" says another. "Whip him out!" says the 1840third. "Hang him up!" says the Duke. I, having been ac1841quainted with the smell before, knew it was Crab, and 1842goes me to the fellow that whips the dogs. "Friend," 1843quoth I, "You mean to whip the dog?" "Ay, marry do I," 1844quoth he. "You do him the more wrong," quoth I. "'Twas 1845I did the thing you wot of." He makes me no more ado, 1846but whips me out of the chamber. How many masters 1847would do this for his servant? Nay, I'll be sworn I have 1848sat in the stocks for puddings he hath stolen, otherwise 1849he had been executed; I have stood on the pillory for 1850geese he hath killed, otherwise he had suffered for't. [To Crab.] Thou1851 think'st not of this now. Nay, I remember the trick you 1852served me when I took my leave of Madam Silvia. Did 1853not I bid thee still mark me, and do as I do? When did'st 1854thou see me heave up my leg and make water against a 1855gentlewoman's farthingale? Did'st thou ever see me do 1856such a trick?

Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well

4.4.61858And will employ thee in some service presently.

In what you please; I'll do what I can.

I hope thou wilt.

[To Lance.] How now, you whoreson peasant,

4.4.101862Where have you been these two days loitering?

Marry, sir, I carried Mistress Silvia the dog you 1864bad me.

And what says she to my little jewel?

Marry, she says your dog was a cur, and tells you 1867currish thanks is good enough for such a present.

But she received my dog?

No, indeed, did she not. 1870Here have I brought him back again.

What, didst thou offer her this from me?

4.4.18Ay, Sir, the other squirrel was stolen from me 1873by the hangman's boys in the market place, 1874and then I offered her mine own, who is a dog 1875as big as ten of yours, and therefore the gift the greater.

Go, get thee hence and find my dog again,

4.4.201877Or ne'er return again into my sight.

4.4.211878Away, I say! Stayest thou to vex me here?

4.4.221879A Slave that still an end turns me to shame.

4.4.231880Sebastian, I have entertained thee

4.4.241881Partly that I have need of such a youth

4.4.251882That can with some discretion do my business,

4.4.261883For 'tis no trusting to yond foolish lout,

4.4.271884But chiefly for thy face and thy behavior,

4.4.281885Which, if my augury deceive me not,

4.4.291886Witness good bringing up, fortune, and truth.

4.4.301887Therefore, know thou, for this I entertain thee.

4.4.311888Go presently, and take this ring with thee.

4.4.321889Deliver it to Madam Silvia.

4.4.331890She loved me well delivered it to me.

It seems you loved not her, to leave her token.

4.4.351892She is dead, belike?

Not so; I think she lives.

Alas.

Why dost thou cry "Alas"?

I cannot choose but pity her.

Wherefore shouldst thou pity her?

Because methinks that she loved you as well

4.4.421899As you do love your lady Silvia.

4.4.431900She dreams on him that has forgot her love;

4.4.441901You dote on her that cares not for your love.

4.4.451902'Tis pity Love should be so contrary,

4.4.461903And thinking on it makes me cry alas.

Well, give her that ring, and therewithal

4.4.481905This letter. That's her chamber. Tell my lady

4.4.491906I claim the promise for her heavenly picture.

4.4.501907Your message done, hie home unto my chamber,

4.4.511908Where thou shalt find me sad and solitary.

How many women would do such a message?

4.4.531910Alas, poor Proteus, thou hast entertained

4.4.541911A fox to be the shepherd of thy lambs.

4.4.551912Alas, poor fool, why do I pity him

4.4.561913That with his very heart despiseth me?

4.4.571914Because he loves her, he despiseth me;

4.4.581915Because I love him, I must pity him.

4.4.591916This ring I gave him when he parted from me,

4.4.601917To bind him to remember my good will,

4.4.611918And now am I, unhappy messenger,

4.4.621919To plead for that which I would not obtain;

4.4.631920To carry that which I would have refused;

4.4.641921To praise his faith, which I would have dispraised.

4.4.651922I am my master's true confirmed love,

4.4.661923But cannot be true servant to my master

4.4.671924Unless I prove false traitor to my self.

4.4.681925Yet will I woo for him, but yet so coldly

4.4.691926As, heaven it knows, I would not have him speed.

1927Gentlewoman, good day. I pray you, be my mean

4.4.711928To bring me where to speak with Madam Silvia.

What would you with her, if that I be she?

If you be she, I do entreat your patience

4.4.741931To hear me speak the message I am sent on.

From whom?

From my master, Sir Proteus, madam.

Oh. He sends you for a picture?

Ay, madam.

Ursula, bring my picture there.

4.4.811937Go, give your master this. Tell him from me

4.4.821938One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget,

4.4.831939Would better fit his chamber than this shadow.

Madam, please you peruse this letter.

4.4.861941Pardon me, madam. I haue unadvised

4.4.871942Delivered you a paper that I should not;

4.4.881943This is the letter to your ladyship.

I pray thee let me look on that again.

It may not be. Good madam, pardon me.

There, hold. [Tries to return letter, which Julia refuses.]

4.4.931947I will not look upon your master's lines.

4.4.941948I know they are stuffed with protestations,

4.4.951949And full of new-found oaths, which he will break

4.4.961950As easily as I do tear his paper. [Tears letter.]

Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring.

The more shame for him that he sends it me,

4.4.991953For I have heard him say a thousand times

4.4.1001954His Julia gave it him at his departure.

4.4.1011955Though his false finger have prophaned the ring,

4.4.1021956Mine shall not do his Julia so much wrong.

She thanks you.

What say'st thou?

I thank you, madam, that you tender her.

4.4.1061960Poor gentlewoman, my master wrongs her much.

Dost thou know her?

Almost as well as I do know myself.

4.4.1091963To think upon her woes, I do protest

4.4.1101964That I have wept a hundred several times.

Belike she thinks that Proteus hath forsook her?

I think she doth, and that's her cause of sorrow.

Is she not passing fair?

She hath been fairer, madam, than she is.

4.4.1151969When she did think my master loved her well

4.4.1161970She, in my judgment, was as fair as you.

4.4.1171971But since, she did neglect her looking-glass,

4.4.1181972And threw her sun-expelling mask away.

4.4.1191973The air hath starved the roses in her cheeks,

4.4.1201974And pinched the lily tincture of her face,

4.4.1211975That now she is become as black as I.

How tall was she?

About my stature, for at Pentecost,

4.4.1241978When all our pageants of delight were played,

4.4.1251979Our youth got me to play the woman's part,

4.4.1261980And I was trimmed in Madam Julia's gown,

4.4.1271981Which served me as fit, by all mens judgments,

4.4.1281982As if the garment had been made for me.

4.4.1291983Therefore I know she is about my height,

4.4.1301984And at that time I made her weep agood,

4.4.1311985For I did play a lamentable part.

4.4.1321986Madam, 'twas Ariadne, passioning

4.4.1331987For Theseus's perjury and unjust flight,

4.4.1341988Which I so lively acted with my tears

4.4.1351989That my poor mistress, moved therewithal,

4.4.1361990Wept bitterly. And would I might be dead

4.4.1371991If I in thought felt not her very sorrow.

She is beholden to thee, gentle youth.

4.4.1391993Alas, poor lady, desolate and left.

4.4.1401994I weep myself to think upon thy words.

4.4.1411995Here, youth. There is my purse. I give thee this

4.4.1421996For thy sweet mistress's sake, because thou lov'st her. Farewell.

And she shall thank you for't, if e'er you know her.

4.4.1441998A virtuous gentlewoman, mild and beautiful.

4.4.1451999I hope my master's suit will be but cold

4.4.1462000Since she respects my mistress's love so much.

4.4.1472001Alas, how love can trifle with itself.

4.4.1482002Here is her picture. Let me see, I think

4.4.1492003If I had such a tire, this face of mine

4.4.1502004Were full as lovely as is this of hers,

4.4.1512005And yet the painter flattered her a little,

4.4.1522006Unless I flatter with myself too much.

4.4.1532007Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow;

4.4.1542008If that be all the difference in his love,

4.4.1552009I'll get me such a colored periwig.

4.4.1562010Her eyes are grey as glass and so are mine;

4.4.1572011Ay, but her forehead's low and mine's as high.

4.4.1582012What should it be that he respects in her

4.4.1592013But I can make respective in myself,

4.4.1602014If this fond Love were not a blinded god?

4.4.1612015Come, shadow, come, and take this shadow up,

4.4.1622016For 'tis thy rival.

[To picture.] O, thou senseless form,

4.4.1632017Thou shalt be worshipped, kissed, loved and adored;

4.4.1642018And were there sense in his idolatry,

4.4.1652019My substance should be statue in thy stead.

4.4.1662020I'll use thee kindly, for thy mistress's sake

4.4.1672021That used me so, or else, by Jove I vow,

4.4.1682022I should have scratched out your unseeing eyes

4.4.1692023To make my master out of love with thee.

The sun begins to gild the western sky,

5.1.42027And now it is about the very hour

5.1.52028That Silvia at Friar Patrick's cell should meet me.

5.1.62029She will not fail, for lovers break not hours

5.1.72030Unless it be to come before their time,

5.1.82031So much they spur their expedition.

5.1.92032See where she comes. Lady, a happy evening.

Amen, Amen. Go on, good Eglamour.

5.1.112034Out at the postern by the abbey wall;

5.1.122035I fear I am attended by some spies.

Fear not. The forest is not three leagues off.

5.1.142037If we recover that, we are sure enough.

Sir Proteus, what says Silvia to my suit?

Oh, sir, I find her milder then she was,

5.2.52042And yet she takes exceptions at your person.

What? That my leg is too long?

No, that it is too little.

I'll wear a boot, to make it somewhat rounder.

[Aside.] But love will not be spurred to what it loathes.

What says she to my face?

She says it is a fair one.

Nay, then the wanton lies: my face is black.

But pearls are fair, and the old saying is,

5.2.142051"Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes."

5.2.152052Julia [Aside.]

'Tis true, such pearls as put out ladies' eyes,

5.2.162053For I had rather wink than look on them.

How likes she my discourse?

Ill, when you talk of war.

But well, when I discourse of love and peace.

[Aside.] But better, indeed, when you hold your peace.

What says she to my valor?

Oh, sir, she makes no doubt of that.

[Aside.] She needs not, when she knows it cowardice.

What says she to my birth?

That you are well derived.

[Aside.] True: from a gentleman to a fool.

Considers she my possessions?

Oh, ay, and pities them.

Wherefore?

[Aside.] That such an ass should owe them.

That they are out by lease.

Here comes the Duke.

How now, sir Proteus; how now, Turio.

5.2.342071Which of you saw Eglamour of late?

Not I.

Nor I.

Saw you my daughter?

Neither.

Why then,

5.2.402077She's fled unto that peasant, Valentine,

5.2.412078And Eglamour is in her Company.

5.2.422079'Tis true, for Friar Laurence met them both

5.2.432080As he in penance wandered through the forest.

5.2.442081Him he knew well, and guessed that it was she,

5.2.452082But being masked, he was not sure of it.

5.2.462083Besides, she did intend confession

5.2.472084At Patrick's cell this even, and there she was not.

5.2.482085These likelihoods confirm her flight from hence;

5.2.492086Therefore, I pray you, stand not to discourse,

5.2.502087But mount you presently, and meet with me

5.2.512088Upon the rising of the mountain foot

5.2.522089That leads toward Mantua, whither they are fled.

5.2.532090Dispatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me.

Why, this it is to be a peevish girl

5.2.552092That flies her fortune when it follows her.

5.2.562093I'll after, more to be revenged on Eglamour,

5.2.572094Than for the love of reckless Silvia.

And I will follow, more for Silvia's love

5.2.592096Than hate of Eglamour that goes with her.

And I will follow, more to crosse that love

5.2.612098Than hate for Silvia, that is gone for love.

Come, come be patient. 2102We must bring you to our captain.

A thousand more mischances than this one

5.3.52104Have learned me how to brook this patiently.

Come, bring her away.

Where is the Gentleman that was with her?

Being nimble footed, he hath outrun us;

5.3.92108But Moises and Valerius follow him.

5.3.102109Go thou with her to the west end of the wood;

5.3.112110There is our captain. We'll follow him that's fled.

5.3.122111The thicket is beset; he cannot scape.

Come, I must bring you to our captain's cave.

5.3.142113Fear not. He bears an honorable mind

5.3.152114And will not use a woman lawlessly.

O Valentine, this I endure for thee.

How use doth breed a habit in a man!

5.4.52121This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,

5.4.62122I better brook than flourishing peopled towns.

5.4.72123Here can I sit alone, unseen of any,

5.4.82124And to the nightingale's complaining notes

5.4.92125Tune my distresses and record my woes.

5.4.102126O thou that dost inhabit in my breast,

5.4.112127Leave not the mansion so long tenantless,

5.4.122128Lest growing ruinous, the building fall,

5.4.132129And leave no memory of what it was.

5.4.142130Repair me with thy presence, Silvia,

5.4.152131Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain.

5.4.162132What hallowing and what stir is this today?