Page images
PDF
EPUB

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 tenour of them doth but signify
My health and happy being at your court.
Duke. Nay then, no matter; stay with me
awhile;

I am to break with thee of some affairs

That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret.
Tis not unknown to thee that I have sought 61
To match my friend Sir Thurio to my daughter.
Val. I know it well, my Lord; and, sure, the
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,

70

Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty,
Neither regarding that she is my child
Nor fearing me as if I were her father;
And, may I say to thee, this pride of hers,
Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her;
And, where I thought the remnant of mine age
Should have been cherish'd by her child-like
duty,

I now am full resolved to take a wife
And turn her out to who will take her in:
Then let her beauty be her wedding-dower;
For me and my possessions she esteems not.

Val. What would your Grace have me to do
in this?

Duke. There is a lady in Verona 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-
For long agone I have forgot to court;
Besides, the fashion of the time is changed-
How and which way I may bestow myself
To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.

80

Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words:

Dumb jewels often in their silent kind

90

More than quick words do move a woman's mind. Duke. But she did scorn a present that I sent her.

Val. A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her.

100

Send her another; never give her o'er;
For scorn at first makes after-love the more.
If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
But rather to beget more love in you:
If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone;
For why, the fools are mad, if left alone.
Take no repulse, whatever she doth say;
For 'get you gone,' she doth not mean 'away!'
Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces;
Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces.
That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man,
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.
Duke. But she I mean is promised by her
friends

Unto a youthful gentleman of worth,
And kept severely from resort of men,
That no man hath access by day to her.

[blocks in formation]

Duke. Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood,
Advise me where I may have such a ladder.
Val. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell
me that.

Duke. This very night; for Love is like a
child,

That longs for every thing that he can come by.
Val. By seven o'clock I'll get you such a
ladder.

Duke. But, hark thee; I will go to her alone:
How shall I best convey the ladder thither?
Val. It will be light, my lord, that you may

bear it

[blocks in formation]

And here an engine fit for my proceeding.
I'll be so bold to break the seal for once. [Reads.
'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 hither 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 would

be. What's here?

150

'Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee.'
'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.
Why, Phaethon,-for thou art Merops' son,-
Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car
And with thy daring folly burn the world?
Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee?
Go, base intruder! overweening slave!
Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates,
And think my patience, more than thy desert,
Is privilege for thy departure hence:
Thank me for this more than for all the favours
Which all too much I have bestow'd on thee.

Val. Why, then, I would resort to her by night. But if thou linger in my territories

160

Longer than swiftest expedition

Will give thee time to leave our royal court,
By heaven! my wrath shall far exceed the love
I ever bore my daughter or thyself.

Be gone! I will not hear thy vain excuse;
But, as thou lovest thy life, make speed from
hence.
[Exit.
Val. And why not death rather than living
torment?
170

To die is to be banish'd from myself;
And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her
Is self from self: a deadly banishment!
What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?
Unless it be to think that she is by
And feed upon the shadow of perfection.
Except I be by Silvia in the night,
There is no music in the nightingale;
Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
There is no day for me to look upon;
She is my essence, and I leave to be,
If I be not by her fair influence
Foster'd, illumined, cherish'd, kept alive.
I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:
Tarry I here, I but attend on death:
But, fly I hence, I fly away from life.

Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE.

Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out.
Launce. Soho, soho!
Pro. What seest thou?

180

190

Launce. Him we go to find: there's not a hair on's head but 'tis a Valentine.

[blocks in formation]

Pro. Who then? his spirit?

Val. Neither.

Pro. What then?

Val. Nothing.

Launce. Can nothing speak? Master, shall I
strike?

Pro. Who wouldst thou strike?
Launce. Nothing.

Pro. Villain, forbear.

200

Launce. Why, sir, I'll strike nothing: I pray

you,-

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

Val. My ears are stopt and cannot hear good

news,

So much of bad already hath possess'd them.
Pro. Then in dumb silence will I bury mine,
For they are harsh, untuneable and bad.
Val. Is Silvia dead?

Pro. No, Valentine.

210

Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the
doom-

Which, unreversed, 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

231

As if but now they waxed pale for woe:
But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears,
Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire;
But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die.
Besides, her intercession chafed him so,
When she for thy repeal was suppliant,
That to close prison he commanded her,
With many bitter threats of biding there.
Val. No more; unless the next word that
thou speak'st

Have some malignant power upon my life:
If so, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear,

As ending anthem of my endless dolour.

240

Pro. Cease to lament for that thou canst not
help,

And study help for that which thou lament'st.
Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
Here if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love;
Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.
Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that
And manage it against despairing thoughts.
Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence:
Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver'd
Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.
The time now serves not to expostulate:
Come, I'll convey thee through the city-gate;
And, ere I part with thee, confer at large
Of all that may concern thy love-affairs.
As thou lovest Silvia, though not for thyself,
Regard thy danger, and along with me!

250

Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy,

Bid him make haste and meet me at the Northgate.

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

Val. O my dear Silvia! Hapless Valentine! 260 [Exeunt Val. and Pro. Launce. I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to think my master is a kind of a knave: but that's all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now that knows me to be in love; yet I am in love; but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me; nor who 'tis I love; and yet 'tis a woman; but what woman, I will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milkmaid; yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips; yet 'tis a maid,

Val. No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia. for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages.

Hath she forsworn me?

Pro. No, Valentine.

[blocks in formation]
[merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

Launce. With my master's ship? why, it is

at sea

Speed. Well, your old vice still; mistake the
word. What news, then, in your paper?
Launce. The blackest news that ever thou
beardest.

Speed. Why, man, how black?
Launce. Why, as black as ink.
Speed. Let me read them.

Launce. Fie on thee, jolt-head! thou canst not read. 291

Speed. Thou liest; I can. Launce. I will try thee. Tell me this: who begot thee?

Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather. Launce. O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy grandmother: this proves that thou canst

not read.

Speed. Come, fool, come; try me in thy paper. Launce. There; and Saint Nicholas be thy speed! 301

Speed. [Reads] 'Imprimis: She can milk."
Launce. Ay, that she can.

Speed. Item: She brews good ale.'
Launce. And thereof comes the proverb:
'Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale.'
Speed Item: She can sew.'

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

Speed. Item: She can knit.' 310 Launce. What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when she can knit him a stock? Speed Item: She can wash and scour." Launce. A special virtue; for then she need not be washed and scoured.

Speed. Item: She can spin.'

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

Speed. 'Item: She hath many nameless

virtues.'

320 Launce. That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers and therefore have no names.

Speed. Here follow her vices.'
Launce. Close at the heels of her virtues.
Speed. Item: She is not to be kissed fasting,
in respect of her breath.'

Launce. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast.

Read on.

Speed. Item: She hath a sweet mouth.' 330

Launce. That makes amends for her sour breath.

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

Item: She doth talk in her sleep.'

Speed. Item: She is slow in words.' Launce. O villain, that set this down among her vices! To be slow in words is a woman's enly virtue: I pray thee, out with 't, and place it for her chief virtue.

340

Speed. Item: she is proud.'
Launce. Out with that too; it was Eve's
legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her.
Speed. Item: She hath no teeth.'

Item: She will often praise her

351

Speed. liquor.' Launce. If her liquor be good, she shall: if she will not, I will; for good things should be praised.

Speed. Item: She is too liberal.'

Launce. Of her tongue she cannot, for that's writ down she is slow of; of her purse she shall not, for that I'll keep shut: now, of another thing she may, and that cannot I help. Well, proceed. 360 Speed. Item: She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.'

Launce. Stop there; I'll have her: she was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that last article. Rehearse that once more.

Speed. Item: She hath more hair than wit,'Launce. 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,'Launce. That's monstrous: O, that that were out!

Speed. And more wealth than faults.' Launce. 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?'

380

Launce. Why, then will I tell thee-that thy master stays for thee at the North-gate. Speed. For me?

Launce. For thee! ay, who art thou? he hath stayed for a better man than thee.

Speed. And must I go to him?

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

turn.

Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner? pox of
your love-letters!
[Exit. 391
Launce. Now will he be swinged for reading
my letter; an unmannerly slave, that will thrust
himself into secrets! I'll after, to rejoice in the
boy's correction.
[Exit.

SCENE II. The same. The DUKE's palace.
Enter DUKE and THURIO.

Duke.

Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love you,

Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight.
Thu. Since his exile she hath despised me
most,

Forsworn my company and rail'd at me,
That I am desperate of obtaining her.

Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure
Trenched in ice, which with an hour's heat
Dissolves to water and doth lose his form.
A little time will melt her frozen thoughts
And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.
Enter PROTEUS.

Launce. I care not for that neither, because How now, Sir Proteus! Is your countryman

I love crusts.

Speed. 'Item: She is curst.'

Launce. Well, the best is, she hath no teeth

to bite.

[blocks in formation]
[blocks in formation]

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 loath to do: "Tis an ill office for a gentleman, Especially against his very friend.

40

Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage him,

Your slander never can endamage him;
Therefore the office is indifferent,
Being entreated to it by your friend.

Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord: if I can do it

By ought that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not long continue love to him.
But say this weed her love from Valentine,
It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio.
Thu. Therefore, as you unwind her love from
him,

Lest it should ravel and be good to none,
You must provide to bottom it on me;
Which must be done by praising me as much
As you in worth dispraise Sir Valentine.

50

Duke. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind,

Because we know, on Valentine's report,
You are already Love's firm votary

60

And cannot soon revolt and change your mind.
Upon this warrant shall you have access
Where you with Silvia may confer at large;
For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy,
And, for your friend's sake, will be glad of you;
Where you may temper her by your persuasion
To hate young Valentine and love my friend.

Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect:
But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough;
You must lay lime to tangle her desires
By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes
Should be full-fraught with serviceable vows.
Duke. Ay,

Much is the force of heaven-bred poesy.

70

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

[blocks in formation]

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

Enter VALENTINE and SPEED.

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

If not, we'll make you sit and rifle you.
Speed. Sir, we are undone; these are the
villains

That all the travellers do fear so much.
Val. My friends,-

First Out. That's not so, sir: we are your

enemies.

[blocks in formation]

I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent;
But yet I slew him manfully in fight,
Without false vantage or base treachery.

First Out. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so.

30

But were you banish'd for so small a fault?
Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doom.
Sec. Out. Have you the tongues?

Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy,

Or else I often had been miserable.

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

This fellow were a king for our wild faction! First Out. We'll have him. Sirs, a word. Speed. Master, be one of them; it's an honourable kind of thievery.

Val. Peace, villain!

40

Sec. Out. Tell us this: have you any thing to take to?

Val. Nothing but my fortune.

Third Out. Know, then, that some of us are gentlemen,

Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth
Thrust from the company of awful men:
Myself was from Verona banished

For practising to steal away a lady,

An heir, and near allied unto the duke.

Sec. Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentle

[blocks in formation]

Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you: 60 you content to be our general?

Are

To make a virtue of necessity

And live, as we do, in this wilderness?

Third Out. What say'st thou? wilt thou be of our consort?

Say ay, and be the captain of us all :

We'll do thee homage and be ruled by thee,
Love thee as our commander and our king.

First Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest.

Sec. Out. Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offer'd.

Val. I take your offer and will live with you, Provided that you do no outrages On silly women or poor passengers.

71

Third Out. No, we detest such vile base practices.

Come, go with us, we'll bring thee to our crews, And show thee all the treasure we have got; Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IL Milan. Outside the DUKE's palace, under SILVIA'S chamber.

Enter PROTEUS.

Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine

And now I must be as unjust to Thurio.
Under the colour of commending him,
I have access my own love to prefer:
But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy,
To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.
When I protest true loyalty to her,

She twits me with my falsehood to my friend;
When to her beauty I commend my vows,
She bids me think how I have been forsworn 10
In breaking faith with Julia whom I loved:
And notwithstanding all her sudden quips,
The least whereof would quell a lover's hope,
Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love,
The more it grows and fawneth on her still.
But here comes Thurio: now must we to her
window,

And give some evening music to her ear.

Enter THURIO and Musicians.

Thu. How now, Sir Proteus, are you crept before us?

Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio: for you know that love

Will creep in service where it cannot go.

20

Thu. Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here. Pro. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence. Thu. Who? Silvia?

Pro.

Ay, Silvia; for your sake. Thu. I thank you for your own. Now, gen

tlemen,

Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile.

Enter, at a distance, Host, and JULIA in
boy's clothes.

Host. Now, my young guest, methinks you 're allycholly: I pray you, why is it?

Jul. Marry, mine host, because I cannot be

merry.

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

Jul. But shall I hear him speak?
Host. Ay, that you shall.
Jul. That will be music.

Host. Hark, hark!

Jul. Is he among these?

[Music plays.

Host. Ay: but, peace! let's hear 'em.

[blocks in formation]
« ՆախորդըՇարունակել »