Val. What would your grace have me to do in this? Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan, 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 chang'd;) How, and which way, I may bestow myself, To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.

Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words; Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, More than quick words, do move

mind.

a woman's

Duke. But she did scorn a present that I sent her. Fal. A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her:

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 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.

Fal. What lets, but one may enter at her window? Luke. 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 everything that he can come by.

Tal 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?

Fal. 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? Va. Ay, my good lord.

To Silvia.

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? And here an engine fit for my proceeding! I'll be so bold to break the seal for once. My thoughts do harbor with my Silvia nightly; And slaves they are to me, that send them flying: 0,muld their master come and go as lightly, Himself would lodge where senseless they are

lying.

[Reads.

My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them; White I, their king, that thither them importune, Do curse the grace that with such grace hath

blessed them,

Because myself do want my servant's fortune: curse myself, for they are sent by me, That they should harbor where their lord should be. What's here!

Siria, this night I will enfranchise thee:

Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.-
Why, Phaeton, (for thou art Merops' son,)
Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car,
And with thy daring folly burn the world t

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 favors,
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 live in tor-
ment!

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, 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 LAUNCE.

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

Pro. What seest thou?

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

Laun. Sir, there's a proclamation that you are banish'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?

them,

Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offered to the doom, (Which, unrevers'd, stands in effectual force.) Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd⚫ A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears: With them, upon her knees, her humble self; Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became 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

Vul. 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 dolor.

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 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 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 milk-maid: yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips: yet 'tis 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 cat-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.

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. Fie 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: this proves, that thou canst not

read.

Speed. Come, fool, come; try me in thy paper.
Laun. There; and Saint Nicholas' be thy speed!
Speed. Imprimis, She can milk.
Laun. Ay, that she can.

Speed. Item, She brews good ale.

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.

a St. Nicholas presided over young scholars.

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, that set this down among he vices! To be slow in words, is a woman's only virtue: I pray thee, out with 't; and place it for hei 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. Item, She will often pruise her liquor, Laun. If her liquor be good, she shall: if she will not, I will; for good things should be praiset. 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 I cannot help. Well, proceed.

Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit, ana more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.

Luun. 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'l 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. Whats next?

Speed. And more faults than hairs,— Laun. That's monstrous : 0, that that were out! Speed. And more wealth than faults. Laun. Why, that word makes the faults gr cious: Well, I'll have her; and if it be a match, as nothing is impossible,

Speed. What then?

Luun. Why, then I will tell thee,master stays for thee at the north gate. Speed. For me?

-that thy

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 him self into secrets! I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's [Ex.

correction.

SCENE II.-The same. A room in the Duke's Palace.

Enter DUKE and TRURIO; 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 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.-
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. Licentious in lar gunge.

Froward.

& Cat.

To makatue of necessity,

And live, as we do, in this wilderness?

3 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 rul'd by thee,
Love thee as our commander, and our king.

1 Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. 2 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.

3 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 II. Milan. Court of the Palace.

Enter PROTEUS.

Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine,
And now I must be as unjust to Thurio.
Under the color 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,

Y

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
In breaking faith with Julia whom I lov'd:
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. Thu. Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here. Pro. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence. Thu. Whom? Silvia?

Pro. Ay, Silvia,

for your sake.

Jul. You mistake; the musician likes me not. Host. Why, my pretty youth!

Jul. He plays false, father.

Host. How out of tune on the strings?

Jul. Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my very heart-strings.

Host. You have a quick ear.

Jul. Ay, I would I were deaf! it makes me have a slow heart.

Host. I perceive you delight not in music.
Jul. Not a whit, when it jars so.

Host. Hark, what fine change is in the music!
Jul. Ay; that change is the spite.

Host. You would have them always play but one thing?

Jul. I would always have one play but one thing. But, host, doth this sir Proteus, that we talk on, often resort unto this gentlewoman?

Host. I tell you what Launce, his man, told me, he loved her out of all nick.

Jul. Where is Launce?

Host. Gone to seek his dog; which, to-morrow, by his master's command, he must carry for a present to his lady.

Jul. Peace! stand aside! the company parts. Pro. Sir Thurio, fear not you! I will so plead That you shall say, my cunning drift excels. Thu. Where meet we?

Pro. At saint Gregory's well.
Thu. Farewell.

[Exeunt THURIO and Musiciars

SILVIA appears above, at her window.

Pro. Madam, good even to your ladyship. Sil. I thank you for your music, gentlemen: Who is that, that spake?

Pro. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth,
You'd quickly learn to know him by his voice.
Sil. Sir Proteus, as I take it.

Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant.
Sil. What is your will!
Pro.

That I may compass yours.
Sil. You have your wish; my will is even this,-
That presently you hie you home to bed.
Thou subtle, perjur'd, false, disloyal man!
Think'st thou, I am so shallow, so conceitless,
To be seduced by thy flattery,

That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows?

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 ask'd 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?

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

SONG.

Who is Silvia? What is she?

That all our swains commend her?
Holy, fair, and wise is she;

The heavens such grace did lend her,
That she might admired be.

Is she kind, as she is fair?

For beauty lives with kindness:
Love doth to her eyes repair.

To help him of his blindness;
And, being help'd, inhabits there.
Then to Silvia let us sing,
That Silvia is excelling;
She excels each mortal thing,
Upon the dull earth dwelling;
To her let us garlands bring.

Host. How now? are you sadder than you were before?

How do you, man? the music likes you not.

Passionate reproaches.

Pro. I likewise hear, that Valentine is dead. Sil. And so, suppose, am I; for in his grave Assure thyself my love is buried.

Pro. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth. Sil. Go to thy lady's grave, and call her's thence, Or, at the least, in her's sepulchre thine. Jul. He heard not that.

[Aside

Pro. Madam, if your heart be so obdúrate, Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love, The picture that is hanging in your chamber; To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep: For, since the substance of your perfect self Is else devoted, I am but a shadow; And to your shadow, I will make true love. Jul. If twere a substance, you would, sure, de

ceive it,

And make it but a shadow, as I am.

[Aside

Sil. I am very loth to be your idol, sir; But, since your falsehood shall become you well To worship shadows, and adore false shapes, Send to me in the morning, and I'll send it And so good rest.

Pro. As wretches have o'er night, That wait for execution in the morn. [Exeunt PROTEUS, and SILVIA from above. Beyond all reckoning.