Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker! Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines? To whisper and conspire against my youth? Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth And you an officer fit for the place. There, take the paper: see it be return'd; Or else return no more into my sight. Here is a coil with protestation! [Tears the letter. Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than Go get you gone, and let the papers lie: hate. Jul. Will ye be gone? Luc. That you may ruminate. [Exit. Jul And yet I would I had o'erlooked the letter: 50 It were a shame to call her back again That you might kill your stomach on your meat And not upon your maid. Jul. What is't that you took up so gingerly? Luc. Nothing. Jal. Why didst thou stoop, then? Luc. To take a paper up that I let fall. Ful. And is that paper nothing? L. Nothing concerning me. 71 Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns. Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns, Unless it have a false interpreter. Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme. Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune. Give me a note: your ladyship can set. 81 Ful. As little by such toys as may be possible. Best sing it to the tune of 'Light o' love.' Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune. Jul. Heavy! belike it hath some burden then? Luc. Ay, and melodious were it, would you sing it. 100 You would be fingering them, to anger me. Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleased To be so anger'd with another letter. [Exit. Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss. SCENE III. The same. ANTONIO'S house. Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO. Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pan. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. Ant. Why, what of him? Pan. He wonder'd that your lordship Would suffer him to spend his youth at home, While other men, of stender reputation, Put forth their sons to seek preferment out: He said that Proteus your son was meet, ΙΟ Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that Whereon this month I have been hammering. Ant. I know it well. 20 Pan. "Twere good, I think, your lordship Isent him thither: There shall he practise tilts and tournaments, 30 Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen, And be in eye of every exercise Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth. Ant. I like thy counsel; well hast thou ad vised: Pro. There is no news, my lord, but that he writes How happily he lives, how well beloved Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune. Ant. My willis something sorted with his wish. 70 Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided: Please you, deliberate a day or two. Ant. Look, what thou want'st shall be sent after thee: No more of stay! to-morrow thou must go. [Exeunt Ant, and Pan. Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire for fear of burning, And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd. The uncertain glory of an April day, Re-enter PANTHINO. Pan. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you: ACT II. SCENE I. Milan. The DUKE's palace. Enter VALENTINE and SPEED. Val. is but one. Val. Ha! let me see: ay, give it me, it's mine: Speed. Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia ! Speed. She is not within hearing, sir. too slow. Val. Go to, sir: tell me, do you know Madam Silvia? Speed. She that your worship loves? Val. Why, how know you that I am in love? Speed. Marry, by these special marks: first. you have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreathe your arms, like a malecontent; to relish a lovesong, like a robin-redbreast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence: to sigh, like a schoolboy that had lost his A B C; to weep, like a young wench that had buried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one that fears robbing: to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you looked sadly, it was for want of money: and now you are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I lock on you, I can hardly think you my master. Val. Are all these things perceived in me? Speed. They are all perceived without ye. l'al. Without me? they cannot. Speed. Without you? nay, that's certain, for, without you were so simple, none else would: but you are so without these follies, that these follies are within you and shine through you like the water in an urinal, that not an eye that sees you but is a physician to comment on your maLady. Val But tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia? Speed. She that you gaze on so as she sits at supper? Tal. Hast thou observed that? even she, I a Speed. [Aside] O, give ye good even! here's million of manners. Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand. Speed. [Aside] He should give her interest, and she gives it him. Val. As you enjoin'd me, I have writ your letter Unto the secret nameless friend of yours; Which I was much unwilling to proceed in But for my duty to your ladyship. Sil. I thank you, gentle servant: 'tis very clerkly done. Val. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off: For being ignorant to whom it goes Sil. Perchance you think too much of so much pains? Val. No, madam; so it stead you, I will write, Please you command, a thousand times as much; And yet Sil. A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel; And yet I will not name it; and yet I care not; And yet take this again; and yet I thank you, Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more. Speed. [Aside] And yet you will; and yet another 'yet.' Val. What means your ladyship? do you not like it? Sil. another. And when it's writ, for my sake read it over, And if it please you, so; if not, why, so. And so, good morrow, servant. [Exit. 140 My master sues to her, and she hath taught her suitor, 26 Val. What figure? Speed. By a letter, I should say. Val. Why, she hath not writ to me? Speed. What need she, when she hath made you write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive 160 the jest? Val. No, believe me. Speed. No believing you, indeed, sir. But did you perceive her earnest? Val. She gave me none, except an angry word. Val. I would it were no worse. Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply; Or fearing else some messenger that might her mind discover, Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover. All this I speak in print, for in print I found it. Val. I have dined. Speed. Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals and would fain have O, be not like your mistress; be moved, [Exeunt. meat. SCENE II. Verona. JULIA's house. Enter PROTEUS and JULIA. Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia. When possibly I can, I will return. sooner. Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake. Jul. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss. Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak; Pan. Sir Proteus, you are stay'd for. Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb. SCENE III. 20 [Exeunt, The same. A street. Enter LAUNCE, leading a dog. Launce. Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault. I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with Sir I think Crab Proteus to the Imperial's court. my dog be the sourest-natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear: he is a stone, a very pebble stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam, having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner of it. This shoe is my father: no, this left shoe is my father: no, no, this left shoe is my mother: nay, that cannot be so neither: yes, it is so, it is so, it hath the worser sole. This shoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father; a vengeance on't! there 'tis: now, sir, this staff is my sister, for, look you, she is as white as a lily and as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid: I am the dog: no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog-Oh! the dog is me, and I am myNow come I to my father; self; ay, so, so. Father, your blessing: now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping: now should I kiss my Now come I to my father; well, he weeps on. mother: O, that she could speak now like a wood woman! Well, I kiss her; why, there 'tis; here's Now ! my mother's breath up and down. Now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes. the dog all this while sheds not a tear nor speaks a word; but see how I lay the dust with my tears. Enter PANTHINO. Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard! thy master is shipped and thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? why weepest thou, man? Away, ass! you'll lose the tide, if you tarry any longer. Launce. It is no matter if the tied were lost; for it is the unkindest tied that ever any man tied. Pan. What's the unkindest tide? Launce. Why, he that's tied here, Crab, my dog. Pan. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lose the flood, and, in losing the flood, lose thy voyage, and, in losing thy voyage, lose thy master, and, in losing thy master, lose thy service, and, in losing thy service,-Why dost thou stop my mouth? 51 Launce. For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue. Pan. In thy tail! Val. I know him as myself; for from our infancy We have conversed and spent our hours together: To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection, Speed. "Twere good you knocked him. [Exit. His years but young, but his experience old: Sil Servant, you are sad. Val Indeed, madam, I seem so. Tha Seem you that you are not? Val. Haply I do. Thu. So do counterfeits. Val. So do you. Thu. What seem I that I am not? Th. What instance of the contrary? Tha. And how quote you my folly? Tha. My jerkin is a doublet. Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly. Thu. How? ΙΟ 20 Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio! do you change colour? Val Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of chameleon. Thu That hath more mind to feed on your Llood than live in your air. Val. You have said, sir. Thu. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time. 30 ial I know it well, sir; you always end ere Fou begin Sil A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off. Val Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver. Sil. Who is that, servant? Val Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fre. Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyhip's looks, and spends what he borrows kindly your company. 40 Tha Sir, if you spend word for word with ne, I shall make your wit bankrupt. Val. I know it well, sir; you have an excheser of words, and, I think, no other treasure to pe your followers, for it appears, by their bare Ereries, that they live by your bare words. Sil No more, gentlemen, no more: here es my father. His head unmellow'd, but his judgement ripe; 70 He is complete in feature and in mind With all good grace to grace a gentleman. Duke. Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this good, He is as worthy for an empress' love As meet to be an emperor's counsellor. And here he means to spend his time awhile: 80 Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he. Duke. Welcome him then according to his worth. Silvia, I speak to you, and you, sir Thurio; I will send him hither to you presently. [Exit. Val. This is the gentleman I told your ladyship Had come along with me, but that his mistress Upon some other pawn for fealty. Val. Nay, sure, I think she holds them prisoners still. Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind, How could he see his way to seek out you? at all. If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from. Val. Mistress, it is: sweet lady, entertain him |