Speed. What, are they broken? Laun. No, they are both as whole as a fish. Speed. Why then, how stands the matter with them? Laun. Marry, thus; when it stands well with him, || it stands well with her.

Speed. What an ass art thou? I understand thee not. Laun. What a block art thou, that thou can'st not? My staff understands me. Speed. What thou say'st?

I cannot now prove constant to myself,
Without some treachery used to Valentine:
This night, he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celestial Silvia's chamber-window;
Myself in counsel, his competitor: 39)
Now presently I'll give her father notice
Of their disguising, and pretended flight; 40)
Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentine;
For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter:

Speed. I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover. Laun. Why, I tell thee, I care not though he burn himself in love. If thou wilt go with me to the alehouse, so; if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian. Speed. Why?

Laun. Because thou hast not so much charity in thee, as to go to the ale 35) with a Christian: Wilt thou go? Speed. At thy service.

The same.

SCENE VI. 36)

[Exeunt.

An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter PROTEUS.

Pro. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn;
To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn;
To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn;
And even that power, which gave me first my oath,
Provokes me to this threefold perjury.

Love bade me swear, and love bids me forswear:
O sweet-suggesting love, 37) if thou hast sinn'd,
Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it.
At first I did adore a twinkling star,
But now I worship a celestial sun.
Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken;
And he wants wit, that wants resolved will
To learn his wit to exchange 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.
Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose:

If I keep them, I needs must lose myself;

If I lose them, thus find I by their loss,
For Valentine, myself; for Julia, Silvia.

I to myself am dearer than a friend;

For love is still more 38 precious in itself:

And Silvia, witness heaven, that made her fair,
Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.

I will forget that Julia is alive,

Rememb'ring that my love to her is dead;
And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,

Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.

By some sly trick, blunt Thurio's dull proceeding. Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift, As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift! [Erit.

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.
Jul. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary
To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;
Much less shall she, that hath love's wings to fly;
And when the flight is made to one so dear,
Of such divine perfection as sir Proteus.
Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return.
Jul. O, know'st thou not, his looks are my soul's
food?

Pity the dearth that I have pined in,
By longing for that food so long a time.
Didst thou but know the inly touch of love,
Thou would'st as soon go kindle fire with snow,
As seek to quench the fire of love with words.
Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire;
But qualify the fire's extreme rage,

Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
Jul. The more thou dam'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 makes sweet musick with the enamel'd stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge

He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;

And so by many winding nooks he strays,
With willing sport, to the wild ocean.
Then let me go, and hinder not my course;
I'll be as patient as a gentle stream,
And make a pastime of each weary step,
Till the last step have brought me to my love;
And there I'll rest, as, after much turmoil,
A blessed soul doth in Elysium.

Luc. But in what habit will you go along?
Jul. Not like a woman; for I would prevent
The loose encounters of lascivious men:
Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds
As may beseem some well-reputed page.

Luc. Why, then, your ladyship must cut your hair. 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

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 promis'd 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.

Val. Why then I would resort to her by night.
Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock'd, and keys kept safe,
That no man hath recourse to her by night.
Val. What lets, 7) but one may enter at her window?
Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground;
And built so shelving, that one cannot climb it
Without apparent hazard of his life.

Val. Why then, a ladder, quaintly made of cords, To cast up, with a pair of anchoring hooks, Would serve to scale another Hero's tower, So bold Leander would adventure it.

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 Under a cloak, that is of any length.

Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn? Val. Ay, my good lord.

Duke. 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! 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 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:
"Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.·
Why, Phaeton, (for thou art Merops' son,) 1o)
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! over-weening 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.
But if thou linger in my territories,

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.
Begone, I will not hear thy vain excuse,
But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence.
[Exit DUKE.
Val. And why not death, rather than living torment?
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 musick 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, illumin'd, 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 LAUNCH.

Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out.
Laun. So-ho! so-ho!

Pro. What see'st thou?

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

Pro. Valentine?

Val. No.

Pro. Who then? his spirit? Val. Neither.

Pro. What then?

Val. Nothing.

Laun. Can nothing speak? master, shall I strike?
Pro. Whom would'st thou strike?
Laun. Nothing.

Pro. Villain, forbear.

Laun. Why, sir, I'll strike nothing: I pray you,
Pro. Sirrah, I say, forbear: Friend Valentine, a word.
Val. My ears are stopp'd, 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.

Val. No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia!
Hath she forsworn me?
Pro. No, Valentine.

Val. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me!What is your news?

Laun. Sir, there's a proclamation that you are vanish'd. Pro. That thou art banished, O, that's the news; 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:

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 chaf'd 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.

Pro. Cease to lament for that thou can'st 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. 12)
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 lov'st Silvia, though not for thyself,
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. 13) 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 milk-maid; yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips: 14) yet 'tis a maid, for she is her master's inaid, and serves for wages. She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel, which is much in a bare christian. 15) Here is the cat-log [pulling out a paper] of her conditions. 16) 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.

Enter SPEED.

Speed. How now, signior Launce, what news with your mastership?

Laun. 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?

Laun. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st.
Speed. Why, man, how black?
Laun. Why, as black as ink.
Speed. Let me read them.

Laun. Fye on thee, jolt-head; thou canst not read.
Speed. Thou liest, I can.

Laun. I will try thee: Tell me this: Who begot thee?
Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather.
Laun. O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy
grandmother: 17) this proves, that thou canst not read.
Speed. Come, fool, come: try me in thy paper.
Laun. There; and saint Nicholas be thy speed! 18)
Speed. Imprimis, She can milk.
Laun. Ay, that she can.

Speed. Item, She brews good ale.

Laun. And thereof comes the proverb,

of your heart, you brew good ale. Speed. Item, She can sew.

Blessing

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. 19)
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 I may 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, 20) 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 crust.

Laun. Well; the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. Speed. She will often praise her liquor. 21) 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. 22)

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, 23) — 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: 24) Well, I'll have her: And if it be a match, as nothing is impossible,

Speed. What then?

Laun. Why, then will I tell thee, ster stays for thee at the north gate. Speed. For ine?

that thy ma

Laun. For thee? ay: who art thou? he hath staid for a better man than thee.

Speed. And must I go to him?

Laun. Thou must run to him, for thou hast staid so long, that going will scarce serve the turn. Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner? 'pox of your love-letters!

[Exit.

Laun. 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. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Enter DUKE and THURIO; PROTEUS behind. 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 despis'd 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; 25) 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. How now, sir Proteus? Is your countryman, According to our proclamation, gone? Pro. Gone, my good lord.

Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously. Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief. Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not 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 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 With falshood, cowardice, and poor descent; Three things that women highly hold in hate. Duke. Ay, but she'll think, that it is spoke in hate. Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it:

Therefore it must, with circumstance, 26) 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: "Tis an ill office for a gentleman; Especially, against his very friend. 27)

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 aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not long continue love to him.

But say, this weed her love for Valentine,

It follows not that she will love sir Thurio.

By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes
Should be full fraught with serviceable vows.
Duke. Ay, much the 31) force of heaven-bred poesy.
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: 32)

For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews;
Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,
Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans
Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.
After your dire lamenting elegies,

Visit by night your lady's chamber-window,
With some sweet concert: to their instruments
Tune a deploring dump; 33) the night's dead silence
Will well become such sweet complaining grievance.
This, or else nothing, will inherit her. 34)

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,
Let us into the city presently

To sort 3) some gentlemen will skill'd in musick:
I have a sonnet, that will serve the turn,
To give the onset to thy good advice.
Duke. About it, gentlemen.

Pro. We'll wait upon your grace, till after supper;
And afterward determine our proceedings.
Duke. Even now about it: I will pardon you. 36)
Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. A Forest near Mantua.
Enter certain Out-laws.

1 Out. Fellows, stand fast; I see a passenger.
2 Out. If there be ten, shrink not, but down with 'em.
Enter VALENTINE and Speed.

3 Out. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about

you;

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,

1 Out. That's not so, sir; we are your enemies. 2 Out. Peace; we'll hear him.

3 Out. Ay, by my beard, will we;

For he's a proper man. 1)

Val. Then know, that I have little wealth to lose; A man I am, cross'd with adversity:

My riches are these poor habiliments,

Of which if you should here disfurnish me,

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.

Duke. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind;
Because we know, on Valentine's report,
You are already love's firm votary,

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, 29) 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, 30) to tangle her desires,

2 Out. Whither travel you?

Val. To Verona.

1 Out. Whence came you?

Val. From Milan.

3 Out. Have you long sojourn'd there?

Val. Some sixteen months; and longer might have staid,

If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.
1 Out. What, were you banish'd thence?
Val. I was.

2 Out. For what offence?

Val. For that which now torments me to rehearse:

I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent;

But yet I slew him manfully in fight,
Without false vantage, or base treachery.

1 Out. Why ne'er repent it, if it were done so: But were you banish'd for so small a fault?