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For Valentine, myself; for Julia, Silvia.
And Silvia, witness heaven, that made her fair!
I will forget that Julia
Rememb'ring that my love to her is dead;
I cannot now prove constant to myself,
Now presently I'll give her father notice
SCENE VII. VERONA. A Room in JULIA'S House.
Enter JULIA and LUCETTA..
Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me!
Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long.
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.
Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire;
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 murinur glides,
Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;
He makes sweet music with the enamel'd stones,
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;
And so by many winding nooks he strays,
And make a pastime of each weary step,
Luc. But in what habit will you go along?
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 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 lov'st 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.
Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go.
Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear:
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. Luc. Pray heaven, he prove so, when you come to him! Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that wrong, To bear a hard opinion of his truth: Only deserve my love, by loving him; And presently go with me to my chamber, To take a note of what I stand in need of, To furnish me upon my longing journey. All that is mine I leave at thy dispose, My goods, my lands, my reputation; Only in lieu thereof, dispatch me hence: Come, answer not, but to it presently; I am impatient of my tarriance.
MILAN. An Anti-Room in the Duke's Palace.
Enter DUKE, THURIO, and PROTEUS.
Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me?
But, when I call to mind your gracious favours
My duty pricks me on to utter that
Which else no worldly good should draw from me.
I know, you have determin'd to bestow her
It would be much vexation to your age.
Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care; Which to requite, command me while I live. This love of theirs myself have often seen, Haply, when they have judged me fast asleep; And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid Sir Valentine her company, and my court: But, fearing lest my jealous aim might err, And so, unworthily, disgrace the man, (A rashness that I ever yet have shunn'd,) I gave him gentle looks; thereby to find That which thyself hast now disclos'd to me. And, that thou may'st perceive my fear of this, Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested, I nightly lodge her in an upper tower, The key whereof myself have ever kept; And thence she cannot be convey'd away. Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a 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; Where, if it please you, you may intercept him. But, good my lord, do it so cunningly, That my discovery be not aimed at; For love of you, not hate unto my friend, Hath made me publisher of this pretence.
Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never know
That I had any light from thee of this.
Pro. Adieu, my lord; Sir Valentine is coming. [Exit.
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,