To learn his wit to change the bad for better.Fye, fye, unreverend tongue! to call her bad, Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths. I cannot leave to love, and yet I do; But there I leave to love, where I should love. If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; And Silvia, witness heaven that made her fair! SCENE VII-Verona. A room in Julia's house. Enter JULIA and LUCETTA. Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me! And, even in kind love, I do conjure thee,Who art the table, wherein all my thoughts Are visibly charácter'd and engrav'd,— To lesson me; and tell me some good mean, How, with my honour, I may undertake A journey to my loving Proteus. Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long. Pity the dearth that I have pined in, But qualify the fire's extreme rage, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. Jul. The more thou damm'st it up, the more it burns; The current that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage; But, when his fair course is not hindered, He overtaketh in his pilgrimage; And so by many winding nooks he strays, Luc. But in what habit will you go along? Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in silken strings, With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots: To be fantastic may become a youth Of greater time than I shall show to be. Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your breeches? Jul. That fits as well, as-" tell me, good my lord, "What compass will you wear your farthingale?" Why, even that fashion thou best lik'st, Lucetta. Luc. You must needs have them with a cod piece, madam. Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd. Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin, Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on. Jul. Lucetta, as thou lovʼst me, let me have What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly: But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me, For undertaking so unstaid a journey? I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd. Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and go not. Jul. Nay, that I will not. Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go. If Proteus like your journey, when you come, No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone: I fear me, he will scarce be pleas'd withal. Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear: A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears, And instances as infinite of love, Warrant me welcome to my Proteus. Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men. Jul. Base men that use them to so base effect! But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth: His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles; His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate; His tears, pure messengers sent from his heart; His heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth. SCENE I-Milan. An anti-room in the Duke's | Where, if it please you, you may intercept him. palace. Enter Duke, THURIO, and PROTEUS. Duke. Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile; We have some secrets to confer about. [Exit Thurio. Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me? Pro. My gracious lord, that, which I would discover, The law of friendship bids me to conceal : Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care; Which to requite, command me while I live. I mean How he her chamber-window will ascend, And with a corded ladder fetch her down; For which the youthful lover now is gone, And this way comes he with it presently; But, good my lord, do it so cunningly, Enter VALENTINE. Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? Val. Please it your grace, there is a messenger That stays to bear my letters to my friends, And I am going to deliver them. Duke. Be they of much import? Val. The tenor of them doth but signify I am to break with thee of some affairs, match Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentle man Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter : Cannot your grace win her to fancy him? Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward, Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty; I now am full resolved to take a wife, Val. What would your grace have me to do in this? Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan, here, Whom I affect; but she is nice, and coy, And nought esteems my aged eloquence : Now, therefore, would I have thee to my tutor, Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, Duke. But she did scorn a present that I sent Val. A woman sometimes scorns what best Send her another; never give her o'er ; Unto a youthful gentleman of worth; That no man hath recourse to her by night. Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the And built so shelving that one cannot climb it Val. Why then, a ladder, quaintly made of To cast up with a pair of anchoring hooks, Duke. This very night; for love is like a child, Under a cloak, that is of any length. I Val. Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord. Duke. How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak? pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me. What letter is this same? What's here?-To Silvia? And here an engine fit for my proceeding! My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them ; Because myself do want my servants' fortune : · What's here? Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee: Go, base intruder! over-weening slave! Val.. And why not death, rather than living To die, is to be banish'd from myself; Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the If I be not by her fair influence turn? Val. Ay, my good lord. Duke. Then let me see thy cloak; I'll get me one of such another length. Foster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive. Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE. Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out. Laun. So-ho! so-ho! Pro. What seest thou? And study help for that, which thou lament'st. Laun. Him we go to find: there's not a hair And manage it against despairing thoughts. on's head, but 'tis a Valentine. Pro. Valentine? Val. No. Pro. Who then? his spirit? Val. Neither. Pro. What then? Val. Nothing. Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence; Laun. Can nothing speak? master, shall I strike? As thou lov'st Silvia, though not for thyself, Laun. Nothing. Pro. Villain, forbear. Laun. Why, sir, I'll strike nothing: I pray From hence, from Silvia, and from me thy friend. Val. O, I have fed upon this woe already, And now excess of it will make me surfeit. Doth Silvia know that I am banished? Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom, (Which, unrevers'd, stands in effectual force,) A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears: Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd; With them, upon her knees, her humble self; Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them, As if but now they waxed pale for woe: Have some malignant power upon my life: Regard thy danger, and along with me. Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy, Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north gate. Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out.--Come, Valentine. Val. O my dear Silvia! hapless Valentine! [Exeunt Valentine and Proteus. Laun. I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to think, my master is a kind of knave: but that's all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now, that knows me to be in love; yet I am in love; but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me ; nor who 'tis I love, and yet 'tis a woman: but that woman, I will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milk-maid: yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips: yet 'tis a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages. She hath more qualities than a water spaniel,-which is much in a bare christian. Here is the cat-log Pulling out a paper] of her conditions. Imprimis, She can fetch and carry. Why, a horse can do no more; nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore, is she better than a jade. Item, She can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands. Speed. Imprimis, She can milk. Laun. Ay, that she can. Speed. Item, She brews good ale. Laun. And thereof comes the proverb,-Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale. Speed. Item, She can sew. Laun. That's as much as to say, Can she so? Speed. Item, She can knit. Laun. What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when she can knit him a stock. Speed. Item, She can wash and scour. Laun. A special virtue; for then she need not be washed and scoured. Speed. Item, She can spin. Laun. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living. Speed. Item, She hath many nameless virtues. Laun. That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have no names. Speed. Here follow her vices. Laun. Close at the heels of her virtues. Speed. Item, She is not to be kissed fasting, in respect of her breath. Laun. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast: Read on. Speed. Item, She hath a sweet mouth. Laun. That makes amends for her sour breath. Speed. Item, She doth talk in her sleep. Laun. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk. Speed. Item, She is slow in words. Laun. O villain, that set this down among her vices! To be slow in words, is a woman's only virtue: I pray thee, out with't; and place it for her chief virtue. Speed. Item, She is proud. love you, Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight. Thu. Since his exile she hath despis'd me most, Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure Laun. Out with that too; it was Eve's lega- Dissolves to water, and doth lose his form. cy, and cannot be taken from her. Speed. Item, She hath no teeth. A little time will melt her frozen thoughts, And worthless Valentine shall be forgot. Laun. I care not for that neither, because I How now, sir Proteus? Is your countryman, love crusts. Speed. Item, She is curst. Laun. Well; the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. Speed. Item, She will often praise her liquor. Laun. If her liquor be good, she shall: if she will not, I will; for good things should be praised. Speed. Item, She is too liberal. Laun. Of her tongue she cannot; for that's writ down she is slow of: of her purse she shall not; for that I'll keep shut now, of another thing she may; and that I cannot help. Well, proceed. Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults. Laun. Stop there; I'll have her: she was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that last article: Rehearse that once more. Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit,— Laun. More hair than wit,-it may be; I'll prove it: The cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it is more than the salt; the hair According to our proclamation, gone? Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously. Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your grace, Let me not live to look upon your grace. Duke. Thou know'st how willingly I would effect The match between sir Thurio and my daughter. Pro. I do, my lord. Duke. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant, How she opposes her against my will. Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here. Duke. Ay, and perversely she persévers so. What might we do, to make the girl forget The love of Valentine, and love sir Thurio? Pro. The best way is to slander Valentine |