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.