How shall I best convey the ladder thither? VAL. It will be light, my lord, that you may bear it Under a cloak, that is of any length. DUKE. A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn? VAL. Ay, my good lord. Then let me see thy cloak: I'll get me one of such another length. VAL. Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord. DUKE. How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak?— I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.What letter is this same? What's here ?-To Silvia? And here an engine fit for my proceeding! My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly; And slaves they are to me, that send them flying: O, could their master come and go as lightly, Himself would lodge, where senseless they are lying. My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them; While I, their king, that thither them importune, Do curse the grace that with such grace hath bless'd them, Because myself do want my servants' fortune : I curse myself, for they are sent by me, That they should harbour where their lord should be. What's here? Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee. "T is so; and here 's the ladder for the purpose. Thank me for this, more than for all the favours, Will give thee time to leave our royal court, a Merops' son,-] "Thou art Phaëton in thy rashness, but without his pretensions: thou art not the son of a divinity, but a terræ filius, a low-born wretch; Merops is thy true father, with whom Phaeton was falsely reproached."-JOHNSON. b I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:] This is somewhat obscure. Mr. Singer reads: I ever bore my daughter, or thyself. To die, is to be banish'd from myself; Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE. PRO. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out. PRO. What seest thou? LAUN. Him we go to find: There's not a hair on 's head, but 't is a Valentine. PRO. Valentine? VAL. No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia!Hath she forsworn me? PRO. No, Valentine. VAL. NoValentine, if Silvia have forsworn me!What is your news? LAUN. Sir, there is a proclamation that you are vanished. PRO. That thou art banished. O, that's the news; From hence, from Silvia, and from me, thy friend. 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: But neither bended knees, pure hands held up, VAL. No more; unless the next word that thou speak'st Have some malignant power upon my life; If so, I thee, breathe it in mine ear, As ending anthem of my endless dolour. PRO. Cease to lament for that thou canst not help, And study help for that which thou lament'st. 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 a knave but that's all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now that knows me to be in love: yet I am in love; but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me; nor who 't is I love, and yet 't is a woman: but what woman, I will not tell myself; and yet 't is a milkmaid; yet 't is not a maid, for she hath had gossips: yet 't is a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages. She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel,which is much in a bare Christian. Here is the cate-log [pulling out a paper] of her conditions. Imprimis, She can fetch and carry. Why, a horse can do no more: nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore is she better than a jade. Item, She can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands. a If he be but one knave.] Warburton very plausibly proposed to read-if he be but one kind." Something, however, leading to Launce's love confession, appears to have been omitted. Possibly the poet wrote, “But that's all one, if he be but one in love.” The second knave may have been repeated, repetition being a very common compositor's error, instead of the words in love, which seem naturally enough to precede, "He lives not now that knows me to be in love." 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 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. a You brew good ale.] "Our ale 's o' the best, And each good guest Masque of Augurs, BEN JONSON. 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. LAUN. Out with that too; it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her. SPEED. Item, She hath no teeth. LAUN. I care not for that neither, because I love crusts. SPEED. Item, She is curst. LAUN. Well; the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. SPEED. 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 cannot I help. Well, proceed. SPEED. Item, She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults. b She is not to be fasting,-] So the folio. The word kissed, which is found in the modern editions, was added by Rowe. She hath a sweet mouth.] As we now say, a liquorish tooth. d More hair than wit,-] A well-known old English proverb. Steevens has given many instances of its occurrence in the old writers. 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 that covers the wit is more than the wit; for the greater hides the less. What's next? SPEED. And more faults than hairs,— LAUN. That's monstrous: O, that that were out! SPEED. And more wealth than faults. LAUN. Why, that word makes the faults gracious: well, I'll have her and if it be a match, as nothing is impossible,— SPEED. What then? : PRO. Gone, my good lord. SO. Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee, (For thou hast shown some sign of good desert,) Makes me the better to confer with thee. PRO. Longer than I prove loyal to your grace, Let me not live to look upon your grace. DUKE. Thou know'st how willingly I would effect The match between sir Thurio and my daughter. PRO. I do, my lord. DUKE. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant How she opposes her against my will. PRO. She did, my lord, when Valentine was PRO. Ay, if his enemy deliver it: Therefore it must, with circumstance, be spoken By one whom she esteemeth as his friend. DUKE. Then you must undertake to slander him. PRO. And that, my lord, I shall be loth to do: "T is an ill office for a gentleman; Especially, against his very friend." DUKE. Where your good word cannot advantage him, Your slander never can endamage him; Being entreated to it by your friend. PRO. You have prevail'd, my lord: if I can do it, By aught that I can speak in his dispraise, Lest it should ravel, and be good to none, DUKE. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind; Because we know, on Valentine's report, familiar with: "A bottome for your silke it seems GRANGE'S Garden, 1557. You are already love's firm votary, PRO. As much as I can do, I will effect:- PRO. Say that upon the altar of her beauty You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart. Write till your ink be dry; and with your tears Moist it again; and frame some feeling line, That may discover such integrity;" For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews; Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones, Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans a Discover such integrity:] Malone supposed that a line following this had been lost. I rather suspect some corruption in the words such integrity. b With some sweet consort:] Consort is the reading of the old copy, and is certainly correct. The modern editors, for the most Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands. Visit by night your lady's chamber-window, This, or else nothing, will inherit her. DUKE. This discipline shows thou hast been in love. THU. And thy advice this night I'll put in practice. Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver, To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music: PRO. We'll wait upon your grace till after |