Henry the Sixt




Executive Director's Notes:

In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all
the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have
been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they
are presented herein:

  Barnardo. Who's there?
  Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold
your selfe

   Bar. Long liue the King

***

As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words
or letters they had often packed into a "cliche". . .this is the
original meaning of the term cliche. . .and thus, being unwilling
to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions
that look very odd. . .such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u,
above. . .and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming
Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner. . . .

The answer is that they MAY have packed "liue" into a cliche at a
time when they were out of "v"'s. . .possibly having used "vv" in
place of some "w"'s, etc.  This was a common practice of the day,
as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend
more on a wider selection of characters than they had to.

You will find a lot of these kinds of "errors" in this text, as I
have mentioned in other times and places, many "scholars" have an
extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a
very high place in the "canon" of Shakespeare.  My father read an
assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University
in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the
purpose.  To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available
. . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes,
that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a
variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous
for signing his name with several different spellings.

So, please take this into account when reading the comments below
made by our volunteer who prepared this file:  you may see errors
that are "not" errors. . . .

So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors,

Part of Henry the Sixt.

Michael S. Hart

Executive Director


***


Scanner's Notes: What this is and isn't.  This was taken from
a copy of Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can
come in ASCII to the printed text.

The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the
conjoined ae have been changed to ae.  I have left the spelling,
punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the
printed text.  I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put
together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of the
Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified
spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded
abbreviations as I have come across them.  Everything within
brackets [] is what I have added.  So if you don't like that
you can delete everything within the brackets if you want a
purer Shakespeare.

Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are textual
differences between various copies of the first folio.  So there may
be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) between
this and other first folio editions.  This is due to the printer's
habit of setting the type and running off a number of copies and
then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type and then
continuing the printing run.  The proof run wasn't thrown away but
incorporated into the printed copies.  This is just the way it is.
The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 different
First Folio editions' best pages.

If you find any scanning errors, out and out typos, punctuation
errors, or if you disagree with my spelling choices please feel
free to email me those errors.  I wish to make this the best
etext possible.  My email address for right now are haradda@aol.com
and davidr@inconnect.com.  I hope that you enjoy this.

David Reed

The Two Gentlemen of Verona

Actus primus, Scena prima.

Valentine: Protheus, and Speed.

  Valentine. Cease to perswade, my louing Protheus;
Home-keeping youth, haue euer homely wits,
Wer't not affection chaines thy tender dayes
To the sweet glaunces of thy honour'd Loue,
I rather would entreat thy company,
To see the wonders of the world abroad,
Then (liuing dully sluggardiz'd at home)
Weare out thy youth with shapelesse idlenesse.
But since thou lou'st; loue still, and thriue therein,
Euen as I would, when I to loue begin

   Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine adew,
Thinke on thy Protheus, when thou (hap'ly) seest
Some rare note-worthy obiect in thy trauaile.
Wish me partaker in thy happinesse,
When thou do'st meet good hap; and in thy danger,
(If euer danger doe enuiron thee)
Commend thy grieuance to my holy prayers,
For I will be thy beades-man, Valentine

   Val. And on a loue-booke pray for my successe?

  Pro. Vpon some booke I loue, I'le pray for thee

   Val. That's on some shallow Storie of deepe loue,
How yong Leander crost the Hellespont

   Pro. That's a deepe Storie, of a deeper loue,
For he was more then ouer-shooes in loue

   Val. 'Tis true; for you are ouer-bootes in loue,
And yet you neuer swom the Hellespont

   Pro. Ouer the Bootes? nay giue me not the Boots

   Val. No, I will not; for it boots thee not

   Pro. What?

  Val. To be in loue; where scorne is bought with grones:
Coy looks, with hart-sore sighes: one fading moments mirth,
With twenty watchfull, weary, tedious nights;
If hap'ly won, perhaps a haplesse gaine;
If lost, why then a grieuous labour won;
How euer: but a folly bought with wit,
Or else a wit, by folly vanquished

   Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me foole

   Val. So, by your circumstance, I feare you'll proue

   Pro. 'Tis Loue you cauill at, I am not Loue

   Val. Loue is your master, for he masters you;
And he that is so yoked by a foole,
Me thinkes should not be chronicled for wise

   Pro. Yet Writers say; as in the sweetest Bud,
The eating Canker dwels; so eating Loue
Inhabits in the finest wits of all

   Val. And Writers say; as the most forward Bud
Is eaten by the Canker ere it blow,
Euen so by Loue, the yong, and tender wit
Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the Bud,
Loosing his verdure, euen in the prime,
And all the faire effects of future hopes.
But wherefore waste I time to counsaile thee
That art a votary to fond desire?
Once more adieu: my Father at the Road
Expects my comming, there to see me ship'd

   Pro. And thither will I bring thee Valentine

   Val. Sweet Protheus, no: Now let vs take our leaue:
To Millaine let me heare from thee by Letters
Of thy successe in loue; and what newes else
Betideth here in absence of thy Friend:
And I likewise will visite thee with mine

   Pro. All happinesse bechance to thee in Millaine

   Val. As much to you at home: and so farewell.

Enter

   Pro. He after Honour hunts, I after Loue;
He leaues his friends, to dignifie them more;
I loue my selfe, my friends, and all for loue:
Thou Iulia, thou hast metamorphis'd me:
Made me neglect my Studies, loose my time;
Warre with good counsaile; set the world at nought;
Made Wit with musing, weake; hart sick with thought

   Sp. Sir Protheus: 'saue you: saw you my Master?

  Pro. But now he parted hence to embarque for Millain

   Sp. Twenty to one then, he is ship'd already,
And I haue plaid the Sheepe in loosing him

   Pro. Indeede a Sheepe doth very often stray,
And if the Shepheard be awhile away

   Sp. You conclude that my Master is a Shepheard then,
and I Sheepe?

  Pro. I doe

   Sp. Why then my hornes are his hornes, whether I
wake or sleepe

   Pro. A silly answere, and fitting well a Sheepe

   Sp. This proues me still a Sheepe

   Pro. True: and thy Master a Shepheard

   Sp. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance

   Pro. It shall goe hard but ile proue it by another

   Sp. The Shepheard seekes the Sheepe, and not the
Sheepe the Shepheard; but I seeke my Master, and my
Master seekes not me: therefore I am no Sheepe

   Pro. The Sheepe for fodder follow the Shepheard,
the Shepheard for foode followes not the Sheepe: thou
for wages followest thy Master, thy Master for wages
followes not thee: therefore thou art a Sheepe

   Sp. Such another proofe will make me cry baa

   Pro. But do'st thou heare: gau'st thou my Letter
to Iulia?

  Sp. I Sir: I (a lost-Mutton) gaue your Letter to her
(a lac'd-Mutton) and she (a lac'd-Mutton) gaue mee (a
lost-Mutton) nothing for my labour

   Pro. Here's too small a Pasture for such store of
Muttons

   Sp. If the ground be ouer-charg'd, you were best
sticke her

   Pro. Nay, in that you are astray: 'twere best pound
you

   Sp. Nay Sir, lesse then a pound shall serue me for carrying
your Letter

   Pro. You mistake; I meane the pound, a Pinfold

   Sp. From a pound to a pin? fold it ouer and ouer,
'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your louer

  Pro. But what said she?

  Sp. I

   Pro. Nod-I, why that's noddy

   Sp. You mistooke Sir: I say she did nod;
And you aske me if she did nod, and I say I

   Pro. And that set together is noddy

   Sp. Now you haue taken the paines to set it together,
take it for your paines

   Pro. No, no, you shall haue it for bearing the letter

   Sp. Well, I perceiue I must be faine to beare with you

   Pro. Why Sir, how doe you beare with me?

  Sp. Marry Sir, the letter very orderly,
Hauing nothing but the word noddy for my paines

   Pro. Beshrew me, but you haue a quicke wit

   Sp. And yet it cannot ouer-take your slow purse

   Pro. Come, come, open the matter in briefe; what
said she

   Sp. Open your purse, that the money, and the matter
may be both at once deliuered

   Pro. Well Sir: here is for your paines: what said she?

  Sp. Truely Sir, I thinke you'll hardly win her

   Pro. Why? could'st thou perceiue so much from her?

  Sp. Sir, I could perceiue nothing at all from her;
No, not so much as a ducket for deliuering your letter:
And being so hard to me, that brought your minde;
I feare she'll proue as hard to you in telling your minde.
Giue her no token but stones, for she's as hard as steele

   Pro. What said she, nothing?

  Sp. No, not so much as take this for thy pains:
To testifie your bounty, I thank you, you haue cestern'd me;
In requital whereof, henceforth, carry your letters your
selfe; And so Sir, I'le commend you to my Master

   Pro. Go, go, be gone, to saue your Ship from wrack,
Which cannot perish hauing thee aboarde,
Being destin'd to a drier death on shore:
I must goe send some better Messenger,
I feare my Iulia would not daigne my lines,
Receiuing them from such a worthlesse post.

Enter.


Scoena Secunda.

Enter Iulia and Lucetta.

  Iul. But say Lucetta (now we are alone)
Would'st thou then counsaile me to fall in loue?

  Luc. I Madam, so you stumble not vnheedfully

   Iul. Of all the faire resort of Gentlemen,
That euery day with par'le encounter me,
In thy opinion which is worthiest loue?

  Lu. Please you repeat their names, ile shew my minde,
According to my shallow simple skill

   Iu. What thinkst thou of the faire sir Eglamoure?
  Lu. As of a Knight, well-spoken, neat, and fine;
But were I you, he neuer should be mine

   Iu. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio?
  Lu. Well of his wealth; but of himselfe, so, so

   Iu. What think'st thou of the gentle Protheus?
  Lu. Lord, Lord: to see what folly raignes in vs

   Iu. How now? what meanes this passion at his name?
  Lu. Pardon deare Madam, 'tis a passing shame,
That I (vnworthy body as I am)
Should censure thus on louely Gentlemen

   Iu. Why not on Protheus, as of all the rest?
  Lu. Then thus: of many good, I thinke him best

   Iul. Your reason?
  Lu. I haue no other but a womans reason:
I thinke him so, because I thinke him so

   Iul. And would'st thou haue me cast my loue on him?
  Lu. I: if you thought your loue not cast away


   Iul. Why he, of all the rest, hath neuer mou'd me

   Lu. Yet he, of all the rest, I thinke best loues ye

   Iul. His little speaking, shewes his loue but small

   Lu. Fire that's closest kept, burnes most of all

   Iul. They doe not loue, that doe not shew their loue

   Lu. Oh, they loue least, that let men know their loue

   Iul. I would I knew his minde

   Lu. Peruse this paper Madam

   Iul. To Iulia: say, from whom?
  Lu. That the Contents will shew

   Iul. Say, say: who gaue it thee?
  Lu. Sir Valentines page: & sent I think from Protheus;
He would haue giuen it you, but I being in the way,
Did in your name receiue it: pardon the fault I pray

   Iul. 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 returne no more into my sight

   Lu. To plead for loue, deserues more fee, then hate

   Iul. Will ye be gon?
  Lu. That you may ruminate.

Enter.

  Iul. And yet I would I had ore-look'd the Letter;
It were a shame to call her backe againe,
And pray her to a fault, for which I chid her.
What 'foole is she, that knowes I am a Maid,
And would not force the letter to my view?
Since Maides, in modesty, say no, to that,
Which they would haue the profferer construe, I.
Fie, fie: how way-ward is this foolish loue;
That (like a testie Babe) will scratch the Nurse,
And presently, all humbled kisse the Rod?
How churlishly, I chid Lucetta hence,
When willingly, I would haue had her here?
How angerly I taught my brow to frowne,
When inward ioy enforc'd my heart to smile?
My pennance is, to call Lucetta backe
And aske remission, for my folly past.
What hoe: Lucetta

   Lu. What would your Ladiship?
  Iul. Is't neere dinner time?
  Lu. I would it were,
That you might kill your stomacke on your meat,
And not vpon your Maid

   Iu. What is't that you
Tooke vp so gingerly?
  Lu. Nothing

   Iu. Why didst thou stoope then?
  Lu. To take a paper vp, that I let fall

   Iul. And is that paper nothing?
  Lu. Nothing concerning me

   Iul. Then let it lye, for those that it concernes

   Lu. Madam, it will not lye where it concernes,
Vnlesse it haue a false Interpreter

   Iul. Some loue of yours, hath writ to you in Rime

   Lu. That I might sing it (Madam) to a tune:
Giue me a Note, your Ladiship can set
  Iul. As little by such toyes, as may be possible:
Best sing it to the tune of Light O, Loue

   Lu. It is too heauy for so light a tune

   Iu. Heauy? belike it hath some burden then?
  Lu. I: and melodious were it, would you sing it,
  Iu. And why not you?
  Lu. I cannot reach so high

   Iu. Let's see your Song:
How now Minion?
  Lu. Keepe tune there still; so you will sing it out:
And yet me thinkes I do not like this tune

   Iu. You doe not?
  Lu. No (Madam) tis too sharpe

   Iu. You (Minion) are too saucie

   Lu. Nay, now you are too flat;
And marre the concord, with too harsh a descant:
There wanteth but a Meane to fill your Song

   Iu. The meane is dround with you vnruly base

   Lu. Indeede I bid the base for Protheus

   Iu. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me;
Here is a coile with protestation:
Goe, get you gone: and let the papers lye:
You would be fingring them, to anger me

   Lu. She makes it stra[n]ge, but she would be best pleas'd
To be so angred with another Letter

   Iu. Nay, would I were so angred with the same:
Oh hatefull hands, to teare such louing words;
Iniurious Waspes, to feede on such sweet hony,
And kill the Bees that yeelde it, with your stings;
Ile kisse each seuerall paper, for amends:
Looke, here is writ, kinde Iulia: vnkinde Iulia,
As in reuenge of thy ingratitude,
I throw thy name against the bruzing-stones,
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdaine.
And here is writ, Loue wounded Protheus.
Poore wounded name: my bosome, as a bed,
Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd;
And thus I search it with a soueraigne kisse.
But twice, or thrice, was Protheus written downe:
Be calme (good winde) blow not a word away,
Till I haue found each letter, in the Letter,
Except mine own name: That, some whirle-winde beare
Vnto a ragged, fearefull, hanging Rocke,
And throw it thence into the raging Sea.
Loe, here in one line is his name twice writ:
Poore forlorne Protheus, passionate Protheus:
To the sweet Iulia: that ile teare away:
And yet I will not, sith so prettily
He couples it, to his complaining Names;
Thus will I fold them, one vpon another;
Now kisse, embrace, contend, doe what you will

   Lu. Madam: dinner is ready: and your father staies

   Iu. Well, let vs goe

   Lu. What, shall these papers lye, like Tel-tales here?
  Iu. If you respect them; best to take them vp

   Lu. Nay, I was taken vp, for laying them downe.
Yet here they shall not lye, for catching cold

   Iu. I see you haue a months minde to them

   Lu. I (Madam) you may say what sights you see;
I see things too, although you iudge I winke

   Iu. Come, come, wilt please you goe.

Exeunt.


Scoena Tertia.


Enter Antonio and Panthino. Protheus.

  Ant. Tell me Panthino, what sad talke was that,
Wherewith my brother held you in the Cloyster?
  Pan. 'Twas of his Nephew Protheus, your Sonne

   Ant. Why? what of him?
  Pan. He wondred that your Lordship
Would suffer him, to spend his youth at home,
While other men, of slender reputation
Put forth their Sonnes, to seeke preferment out.
Some to the warres, to try their fortune there;
Some, to discouer Islands farre away:
Some, to the studious Vniuersities;
For any, or for all these exercises,
He said, that Protheus, your sonne, was meet;
And did request me, to importune you
To let him spend his time no more at home;
Which would be great impeachment to his age,
In hauing knowne no trauaile in his youth

   Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that
Whereon, this month I haue bin hamering.
I haue consider'd well, his losse of time,
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being tryed, and tutord in the world:
Experience is by industry atchieu'd,
And perfected by the swift course of time:
Then tell me, whether were I best to send him?
  Pan. I thinke your Lordship is not ignorant
How his companion, youthfull Valentine,
Attends the Emperour in his royall Court

   Ant. I know it well

   Pan. 'Twere good, I thinke, your Lordship sent him
(thither,
There shall he practise Tilts, and Turnaments;
Heare sweet discourse, conuerse with Noble-men,
And be in eye of euery Exercise
Worthy his youth, and noblenesse of birth

   Ant. I like thy counsaile: well hast thou aduis'd:
And that thou maist perceiue how well I like it,
The execution of it shall make knowne;
Euen with the speediest expedition,
I will dispatch him to the Emperors Court

   Pan. To morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso,
With other Gentlemen of good esteeme
Are iournying, to salute the Emperor,
And to commend their seruice to his will

   Ant. Good company: with them shall Protheus go:
And in good time: now will we breake with him

   Pro. Sweet Loue, sweet lines, sweet life,
Here is her hand, the agent of her heart;
Here is her oath for loue, her honors paune;
O that our Fathers would applaud our loues
To seale our happinesse with their consents

   Pro. Oh heauenly Iulia

   Ant. How now? What Letter are you reading there?
  Pro. May't please your Lordship, 'tis a word or two
Of commendations sent from Valentine;
Deliuer'd by a friend, that came from him

   Ant. Lend me the Letter: Let me see what newes

   Pro. There is no newes (my Lord) but that he writes
How happily he liues, how well-belou'd,
And daily graced by the Emperor;
Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune

   Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish?
  Pro. As one relying on your Lordships will,
And not depending on his friendly wish

   Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish:
Muse not that I thus sodainly proceed;
For what I will, I will, and there an end:
I am resolu'd, that thou shalt spend some time
With Valentinus, in the Emperors Court:
What maintenance he from his friends receiues,
Like exhibition thou shalt haue from me,
To morrow be in readinesse, to goe,
Excuse it not: for I am peremptory

   Pro. My Lord I cannot be so soone prouided,
Please you deliberate a day or two

   Ant. Look what thou want'st shalbe sent after thee:
No more of stay: to morrow thou must goe;
Come on Panthino; you shall be imployd,
To hasten on his Expedition

   Pro. Thus haue I shund the fire, for feare of burning,
And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd.
I fear'd to shew my Father Iulias Letter,
Least he should take exceptions to my loue,
And with the vantage of mine owne excuse
Hath he excepted most against my loue.
Oh, how this spring of loue resembleth
The vncertaine glory of an Aprill day,
Which now shewes all the beauty of the Sun,
And by and by a clowd takes all away

   Pan. Sir Protheus, your Fathers call's for you,
He is in hast, therefore I pray you go

   Pro. Why this it is: my heart accords thereto,
And yet a thousand times it answer's no.

Exeunt. Finis.


Actus secundus: Scoena Prima.

Enter Valentine, Speed, Siluia

   Speed. Sir, your Gloue

   Valen. Not mine: my Gloues are on

   Sp. Why then this may be yours: for this is but one

   Val. Ha? Let me see: I, giue it me, it's mine:
Sweet Ornament, that deckes a thing diuine,
Ah Siluia, Siluia

   Speed. Madam Siluia: Madam Siluia

   Val. How now Sirha?
  Speed. Shee is not within hearing Sir

   Val. Why sir, who bad you call her?
  Speed. Your worship sir, or else I mistooke

   Val. Well: you'll still be too forward

   Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow

   Val. Goe to, sir, tell me: do you know Madam Siluia?
  Speed. Shee that your worship loues?
  Val. Why, how know you that I am in loue?
  Speed. Marry by these speciall markes: first, you haue
learn'd (like Sir Protheus) to wreath your Armes like a
Male-content: to rellish a Loue-song, like a Robin-redbreast:
to walke alone like one that had the pestilence:
to sigh, like a Schoole-boy that had lost his A.B.C. to
weep like a yong wench that had buried her Grandam:
to fast, like one that takes diet: to watch, like one that
feares robbing: to speake puling, like a beggar at Hallow-Masse:
You were wont, when you laughed, to crow
like a cocke; when you walk'd, to walke like one of the
Lions: when you fasted, it was presently after dinner:
when you look'd sadly, it was for want of money: And
now you are Metamorphis'd with a Mistris, that when I
looke on you, I can hardly thinke you my Master

   Val. Are all these things perceiu'd in me?
  Speed. They are all perceiu'd without ye

   Val. Without me? they cannot

   Speed. Without you? nay, that's certaine: 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 Vrinall: that
not an eye that sees you, but is a Physician to comment
on your Malady

   Val. But tell me: do'st thou know my Lady Siluia?
  Speed. Shee that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper?
  Val. Hast thou obseru'd that? euen she I meane

   Speed. Why sir, I know her not

   Val. Do'st thou know her by my gazing on her, and
yet know'st her not?
  Speed. Is she not hard-fauour'd, sir?
  Val. Not so faire (boy) as well fauour'd

   Speed. Sir, I know that well enough

   Val. What dost thou know?
  Speed. That shee is not so faire, as (of you) well-fauourd?
  Val. I meane that her beauty is exquisite,
But her fauour infinite

   Speed. That's because the one is painted, and the other
out of all count

   Val. How painted? and how out of count?
  Speed. Marry sir, so painted to make her faire, that no
man counts of her beauty

   Val. How esteem'st thou me? I account of her beauty

   Speed. You neuer saw her since she was deform'd

   Val. How long hath she beene deform'd?
  Speed. Euer since you lou'd her

   Val. I haue lou'd her euer since I saw her,
And still I see her beautifull

   Speed. If you loue her, you cannot see her

   Val. Why?
  Speed. Because Loue is blinde: O that you had mine
eyes, or your owne eyes had the lights they were wont
to haue, when you chidde at Sir Protheus, for going vngarter'd

   Val. What should I see then?
  Speed. Your owne present folly, and her passing deformitie:
for hee beeing in loue, could not see to garter
his hose; and you, beeing in loue, cannot see to put on
your hose

   Val. Belike (boy) then you are in loue, for last morning
You could not see to wipe my shooes

   Speed. True sir: I was in loue with my bed, I thanke
you, you swing'd me for my loue, which makes mee the
bolder to chide you, for yours

   Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her

   Speed. I would you were set, so your affection would
cease

   Val. Last night she enioyn'd me,
To write some lines to one she loues

   Speed. And haue you?
  Val. I haue

   Speed. Are they not lamely writt?
  Val. No (Boy) but as well as I can do them:
Peace, here she comes

   Speed. Oh excellent motion; oh exceeding Puppet:
Now will he interpret to her

   Val. Madam & Mistres, a thousand good-morrows

   Speed. Oh, 'giue ye-good-ev'n: heer's a million of
manners

   Sil. Sir Valentine, and seruant, to you two thousand

   Speed. He should giue her interest: & she giues it him

   Val. As you inioynd me; I haue writ your Letter
Vnto the secret, nameles friend of yours:
Which I was much vnwilling to proceed in,
But for my duty to your Ladiship

   Sil. I thanke you (gentle Seruant) 'tis very Clerklydone

   Val. Now trust me (Madam) it came hardly-off:
For being ignorant to whom it goes,
I writ at randome, very doubtfully

   Sil. Perchance you think too much of so much pains?
  Val. No (Madam) so it steed you, I will write
(Please you command) a thousand times as much:
And yet -
  Sil. A pretty period: well: I ghesse the sequell;
And yet I will not name it: and yet I care not.
And yet, take this againe: and yet I thanke you:
Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more

   Speed. And yet you will: and yet, another yet

   Val. What meanes your Ladiship?
Doe you not like it?
  Sil. Yes, yes: the lines are very queintly writ,
But (since vnwillingly) take them againe.
Nay, take them

   Val. Madam, they are for you

   Silu. I, I: you writ them Sir, at my request,
But I will none of them: they are for you:
I would haue had them writ more mouingly:
  Val. Please you, Ile write your Ladiship another

   Sil. And when it's writ: for my sake read it ouer,
And if it please you, so: if not: why so:
  Val. If it please me, (Madam?) what then?
  Sil. Why if it please you, take it for your labour;
And so good-morrow Seruant.

Exit. Sil.

  Speed. Oh Iest vnseene: inscrutible: inuisible,
As a nose on a mans face, or a Wethercocke on a steeple:
My Master sues to her: and she hath taught her Sutor,
He being her Pupill, to become her Tutor.
Oh excellent deuise, was there euer heard a better?
That my master being scribe,
To himselfe should write the Letter?
  Val. How now Sir?
What are you reasoning with your selfe?
  Speed. Nay: I was riming: 'tis you y haue the reason

   Val. To doe what?
  Speed. To be a Spokes-man from Madam Siluia

   Val. To whom?
  Speed. To your selfe: why, she woes you by a figure

   Val. What figure?
  Speed. By a Letter, I should say

   Val. Why she hath not writ to me?
  Speed. What need she,
When shee hath made you write to your selfe?
Why, doe you not perceiue the iest?
  Val. No, beleeue me

   Speed. No beleeuing you indeed sir:
But did you perceiue her earnest?
  Val. She gaue me none, except an angry word

   Speed. Why she hath giuen you a Letter

   Val. That's the Letter I writ to her friend

   Speed. And y letter hath she deliuer'd, & there an end

   Val. I would it were no worse

   Speed. Ile warrant you, 'tis as well:
For often haue you writ to her: and she in modesty,
Or else for want of idle time, could not againe reply,
Or fearing els some messe[n]ger, y might her mind discouer
Her self hath taught her Loue himself, to write vnto her louer.
All this I speak in print, for in print I found it.
Why muse you sir, 'tis dinner time

   Val. I haue dyn'd

   Speed. I, but hearken sir: though the Cameleon Loue
can feed on the ayre, I am one that am nourish'd by my
victuals; and would faine haue meate: oh bee not like
your Mistresse, be moued, be moued.

Exeunt.


Scoena secunda.

Enter Protheus, Iulia, Panthion.

  Pro. Haue patience, gentle Iulia:
  Iul. I must where is no remedy

   Pro. When possibly I can, I will returne

   Iul. If you turne not: you will return the sooner:
Keepe this remembrance for thy Iulia's sake

   Pro. Why then wee'll make exchange;
Here, take you this

   Iul. And seale the bargaine with a holy kisse

   Pro. Here is my hand, for my true constancie:
And when that howre ore-slips me in the day,
Wherein I sigh not (Iulia) for thy sake,
The next ensuing howre, some foule mischance
Torment me for my Loues forgetfulnesse:
My father staies my comming: answere not:
The tide is now; nay, not thy tide of teares,
That tide will stay me longer then I should,
Iulia, farewell: what, gon without a word?
I, so true loue should doe: it cannot speake,
For truth hath better deeds, then words to grace it

   Panth. Sir Protheus: you are staid for

   Pro. Goe: I come, I come:
Alas, this parting strikes poore Louers dumbe.

Exeunt.


Scoena Tertia.

Enter Launce, Panthion.

  Launce. Nay, 'twill bee this howre ere I haue done
weeping: all the kinde of the Launces, haue this very
fault: I haue receiu'd my proportion, like the prodigious
Sonne, and am going with Sir Protheus to the Imperialls
Court: I thinke Crab my dog, be the sowrest natured
dogge that liues: My Mother weeping: my Father
wayling: my Sister crying: our Maid howling: our
Catte wringing her hands, and all our house in a great
perplexitie, yet did not this cruell-hearted Curre shedde
one teare: he is a stone, a very pibble stone, and has no
more pitty in him then a dogge: a Iew would haue wept
to haue seene our parting: why my Grandam hauing
no eyes, looke you, wept her selfe blinde at my parting:
nay, Ile shew you the manner of it. This shooe is my father:
no, this left shooe is my father; no, no, this left
shooe is my mother: nay, that cannot bee so neyther:
yes; it is so, it is so: it hath the worser sole: this shooe
with the hole in it, is my mother: and this my father:
a veng'ance on't, there 'tis: Now sir, this staffe is my sister:
for, looke you, she is as white as a lilly, and as
small as a wand: this hat is Nan our maid: I am the
dogge: no, the dogge is himselfe, and I am the dogge:
oh, the dogge is me, and I am my selfe: I; so, so: now
come I to my Father; Father, your blessing: now
should not the shooe speake a word for weeping:
now should I kisse my Father; well, hee weepes on:
Now come I to my Mother: Oh that she could speake
now, like a would-woman: well, I kisse her: why
there 'tis; heere's my mothers breath vp and downe:
Now come I to my sister; marke the moane she makes:
now the dogge all this while sheds not a teare: nor
speakes a word: but see how I lay the dust with my
teares

   Panth. Launce, away, away: a Boord: thy Master is
ship'd, and thou art to post after with oares; what's the
matter? why weep'st thou man? away asse, you'l loose
the Tide, if you tarry any longer

   Laun. It is no matter if the tide were lost, for it is the
vnkindest Tide, that euer any man tide

   Panth. What's the vnkindest tide?
  Lau. Why, he that's tide here, Crab my dog

   Pant. Tut, man: I meane thou'lt loose the flood, and
in loosing the flood, loose thy voyage, and in loosing thy
voyage, loose thy Master, and in loosing thy Master,
loose thy seruice, and in loosing thy seruice: - why
dost thou stop my mouth?
  Laun. For feare thou shouldst loose thy tongue

   Panth. Where should I loose my tongue?
  Laun. In thy Tale

   Panth. In thy Taile

   Laun. Loose the Tide, and the voyage, and the Master,
and the Seruice, and the tide: why man, if the Riuer
were drie, I am able to fill it with my teares: if the winde
were downe, I could driue the boate with my sighes

   Panth. Come: come away man, I was sent to call
thee

   Lau. Sir: call me what thou dar'st

   Pant. Wilt thou goe?
  Laun. Well, I will goe.

Exeunt.


Scena Quarta.

Enter Valentine, Siluia, Thurio, Speed, Duke, Protheus.

  Sil. Seruant

   Val. Mistris

   Spee. Master, Sir Thurio frownes on you

   Val. I Boy, it's for loue

   Spee. Not of you

   Val. Of my Mistresse then

   Spee. 'Twere good you knockt him

   Sil. Seruant, you are sad

   Val. Indeed, Madam, I seeme so

   Thu. Seeme you that you are not?
  Val. Hap'ly I doe

   Thu. So doe Counterfeyts

   Val. So doe you

   Thu. What seeme I that I am not?
  Val. Wise

   Thu. What instance of the contrary?
  Val. Your folly

   Thu. And how quoat you my folly?
  Val. I quoat it in your Ierkin

   Thu. My Ierkin is a doublet

   Val. Well then, Ile double your folly

   Thu. How?
  Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio, do you change colour?
  Val. Giue him leaue, Madam, he is a kind of Camelion

   Thu. That hath more minde to feed on your bloud,
then liue in your ayre

   Val. You haue said Sir

   Thu. I Sir, and done too for this time

   Val. I know it wel sir, you alwaies end ere you begin

   Sil. A fine volly of words, gentleme[n], & quickly shot off
  Val. 'Tis indeed, Madam, we thank the giuer

   Sil. Who is that Seruant?
  Val. Your selfe (sweet Lady) for you gaue the fire,
Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your Ladiships lookes,
And spends what he borrowes kindly in your company

   Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall
make your wit bankrupt

   Val. I know it well sir: you haue an Exchequer of words,
And I thinke, no other treasure to giue your followers:
For it appeares by their bare Liueries
That they liue by your bare words

   Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more:
Here comes my father

   Duk. Now, daughter Siluia, you are hard beset.
Sir Valentine, your father is in good health,
What say you to a Letter from your friends
Of much good newes?
  Val. My Lord, I will be thankfull,
To any happy messenger from thence

   Duk. Know ye Don Antonio, your Countriman?
  Val. I, my good Lord, I know the Gentleman
To be of worth, and worthy estimation,
And not without desert so well reputed

   Duk. Hath he not a Sonne?
  Val. I, my good Lord, a Son, that well deserues
The honor, and regard of such a father

   Duk. You know him well?
  Val. I knew him as my selfe: for from our Infancie
We haue conuerst, and spent our howres together,
And though my selfe haue beene an idle Trewant,
Omitting the sweet benefit of time
To cloath mine age with Angel-like perfection:
Yet hath Sir Protheus (for that's his name)
Made vse, and faire aduantage of his daies:
His yeares but yong, but his experience old:
His head vn-mellowed, but his Iudgement ripe;
And in a word (for far behinde his worth
Comes all the praises that I now bestow.)
He is compleat in feature, and in minde,
With all good grace, to grace a Gentleman

   Duk. Beshrew me sir, but if he make this good
He is as worthy for an Empresse loue,
As meet to be an Emperors Councellor:
Well, Sir: this Gentleman is come to me
With Commendation from great Potentates,
And heere he meanes to spend his time a while,
I thinke 'tis no vn-welcome newes to you

   Val. Should I haue wish'd a thing, it had beene he

   Duk. Welcome him then according to his worth:
Siluia, I speake to you, and you Sir Thurio,
For Valentine, I need not cite him to it,
I will send him hither to you presently

   Val. This is the Gentleman I told your Ladiship
Had come along with me, but that his Mistresse
Did hold his eyes, lockt in her Christall lookes

   Sil. Be-like that now she hath enfranchis'd them
Vpon some other pawne for fealty

   Val. Nay sure, I thinke she holds them prisoners stil

   Sil. Nay then he should be blind, and being blind
How could he see his way to seeke out you?
  Val. Why Lady, Loue hath twenty paire of eyes

   Thur. They say that Loue hath not an eye at all

   Val. To see such Louers, Thurio, as your selfe,
Vpon a homely obiect, Loue can winke

   Sil. Haue done, haue done: here comes y gentleman

   Val. Welcome, deer Protheus: Mistris, I beseech you
Confirme his welcome, with some speciall fauor

   Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hether,
If this be he you oft haue wish'd to heare from

   Val. Mistris, it is: sweet Lady, entertaine him
To be my fellow-seruant to your Ladiship

   Sil. Too low a Mistres for so high a seruant

   Pro. Not so, sweet Lady, but too meane a seruant
To haue a looke of such a worthy a Mistresse

   Val. Leaue off discourse of disabilitie:
Sweet Lady, entertaine him for your Seruant

   Pro. My dutie will I boast of, nothing else

   Sil. And dutie neuer yet did want his meed.
Seruant, you are welcome to a worthlesse Mistresse

   Pro. Ile die on him that saies so but your selfe

   Sil. That you are welcome?
  Pro. That you are worthlesse

   Thur. Madam, my Lord your father wold speak with you

   Sil. I wait vpon his pleasure: Come Sir Thurio,
Goe with me: once more, new Seruant welcome;
Ile leaue you to confer of home affaires,
When you haue done, we looke too heare from you

   Pro. Wee'll both attend vpon your Ladiship

   Val. Now tell me: how do al from whence you came?
  Pro. Your frends are wel, & haue the[m] much co[m]mended

   Val. And how doe yours?
  Pro. I left them all in health

   Val. How does your Lady? & how thriues your loue?
  Pro. My tales of Loue were wont to weary you,
I know you ioy not in a Loue-discourse

   Val. I Protheus, but that life is alter'd now,
I haue done pennance for contemning Loue,
Whose high emperious thoughts haue punish'd me
With bitter fasts, with penitentiall grones,
With nightly teares, and daily hart-sore sighes,
For in reuenge of my contempt of loue,
Loue hath chas'd sleepe from my enthralled eyes,
And made them watchers of mine owne hearts sorrow.
O gentle Protheus, Loue's a mighty Lord,
And hath so humbled me, as I confesse
There is no woe to his correction,
Nor to his Seruice, no such ioy on earth:
Now, no discourse, except it be of loue:
Now can I breake my fast, dine, sup, and sleepe,
Vpon the very naked name of Loue

   Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye:
Was this the Idoll, that you worship so?
  Val. Euen She; and is she not a heauenly Saint?
  Pro. No; But she is an earthly Paragon

   Val. Call her diuine

   Pro. I will not flatter her

   Val. O flatter me: for Loue delights in praises

   Pro. When I was sick, you gaue me bitter pils,
And I must minister the like to you

   Val. Then speake the truth by her; if not diuine,
Yet let her be a principalitie,
Soueraigne to all the Creatures on the earth

   Pro. Except my Mistresse

   Val. Sweet: except not any,
Except thou wilt except against my Loue

   Pro. Haue I not reason to prefer mine owne?
  Val. And I will help thee to prefer her to:
Shee shall be dignified with this high honour,
To beare my Ladies traine, lest the base earth
Should from her vesture chance to steale a kisse,
And of so great a fauor growing proud,
Disdaine to roote the Sommer-swelling flowre,
And make rough winter euerlastingly

   Pro. Why Valentine, what Bragadisme is this?
  Val. Pardon me (Protheus) all I can is nothing,
To her, whose worth, make other worthies nothing;
Shee is alone

   Pro. Then let her alone

   Val. Not for the world: why man, she is mine owne,
And I as rich in hauing such a Iewell
As twenty Seas, if all their sand were pearle,
The water, Nectar, and the Rocks pure gold.
Forgiue me, that I doe not dreame on thee,
Because thou seest me doate vpon my loue:
My foolish Riuall that her Father likes
(Onely for his possessions are so huge)
Is gone with her along, and I must after,
For Loue (thou know'st is full of iealousie.)
  Pro. But she loues you?
  Val. I, and we are betroathd: nay more, our mariage howre,
With all the cunning manner of our flight
Determin'd of: how I must climbe her window,
The Ladder made of Cords, and all the means
Plotted, and 'greed on for my happinesse.
Good Protheus goe with me to my chamber,
In these affaires to aid me with thy counsaile

   Pro. Goe on before: I shall enquire you forth:
I must vnto the Road, to dis-embarque
Some necessaries, that I needs must vse,
And then Ile presently attend you

   Val. Will you make haste?

Enter.

  Pro. I will.
Euen as one heate, another heate expels,
Or as one naile, by strength driues out another.
So the remembrance of my former Loue
Is by a newer obiect quite forgotten,
It is mine, or Valentines praise?
Her true perfection, or my false transgression?
That makes me reasonlesse, to reason thus?
Shee is faire: and so is Iulia that I loue,
(That I did loue, for now my loue is thaw'd,
Which like a waxen Image 'gainst a fire
Beares no impression of the thing it was.)
Me thinkes my zeale to Valentine is cold,
And that I loue him not as I was wont:
O, but I loue his Lady too-too much,
And that's the reason I loue him so little.
How shall I doate on her with more aduice,
That thus without aduice begin to loue her?
'Tis but her picture I haue yet beheld,
And that hath dazel'd my reasons light:
But when I looke on her perfections,
There is no reason, but I shall be blinde.
If I can checke my erring loue, I will,
If not, to compasse her Ile vse my skill.

Exeunt.


Scena Quinta.

Enter Speed and Launce.

  Speed. Launce, by mine honesty welcome to Padua

   Laun. Forsweare not thy selfe, sweet youth, for I am
not welcome. I reckon this alwaies, that a man is neuer
vndon till hee be hang'd, nor neuer welcome to a place,
till some certaine shot be paid, and the Hostesse say welcome

   Speed. Come-on you mad-cap: Ile to the Ale-house
with you presently; where, for one shot of fiue pence,
thou shalt haue fiue thousand welcomes: But sirha, how
did thy Master part with Madam Iulia?
  Lau. Marry after they cloas'd in earnest, they parted
very fairely in iest

   Spee. But shall she marry him?
  Lau. No

   Spee. How then? shall he marry her?
  Lau. No, neither

   Spee. What, are they broken?
  Lau. No; they are both as whole as a fish

   Spee. Why then, how stands the matter with them?
  Lau. Marry thus, when it stands well with him, it
stands well with her

   Spee. What an asse art thou, I vnderstand thee not

   Lau. What a blocke art thou, that thou canst not?
My staffe vnderstands me?
  Spee. What thou saist?
  Lau. I, and what I do too: looke thee, Ile but leane,
and my staffe vnderstands me

   Spee. It stands vnder thee indeed

   Lau. Why, stand-vnder: and vnder-stand is all one

   Spee. But tell me true, wil't be a match?
  Lau. Aske my dogge, if he say I, it will: if hee say
no, it will: if hee shake his taile, and say nothing, it
will

   Spee. The conclusion is then, that it will

   Lau. Thou shalt neuer get such a secret from me, but
by a parable

   Spee. 'Tis well that I get it so: but Launce, how saist
thou that that my master is become a notable Louer?
  Lau. I neuer knew him otherwise

   Spee. Then how?
  Lau. A notable Lubber: as thou reportest him to
bee

   Spee. Why, thou whorson Asse, thou mistak'st me,
  Lau. Why Foole, I meant not thee, I meant thy
Master

   Spee. I tell thee, my Master is become a hot Louer

   Lau. Why, I tell thee, I care not, though hee burne
himselfe in Loue. If thou wilt goe with me to the Alehouse:
if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Iew, and not worth
the name of a Christian

   Spee. Why?
  Lau. Because thou hast not so much charity in thee as
to goe to the Ale with a Christian: Wilt thou goe?
  Spee. At thy seruice.

Exeunt.


Scoena Sexta.

Enter Protheus solus.

  Pro. To leaue my Iulia; shall I be forsworne?
To loue faire Siluia; shall I be forsworne?
To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworne.
And ev'n that Powre which gaue me first my oath
Prouokes me to this three-fold periurie.
Loue bad mee sweare, and Loue bids me for-sweare;
O sweet-suggesting Loue, if thou hast sin'd,
Teach me (thy tempted subiect) to excuse it.
At first I did adore a twinkling Starre,
But now I worship a celestiall Sunne:
Vn-heedfull vowes may heedfully be broken,
And he wants wit, that wants resolued will,
To learne his wit, t' exchange the bad for better;
Fie, fie, vnreuerend tongue, to call her bad,
Whose soueraignty so oft thou hast preferd,
With twenty thousand soule-confirming oathes.
I cannot leaue to loue; and yet I doe:
But there I leaue to loue, where I should loue.
Iulia I loose, and Valentine I loose,
If I keepe them, I needs must loose my selfe:
If I loose them, thus finde I by their losse,
For Valentine, my selfe: for Iulia, Siluia.
I to my selfe am deerer then a friend,
For Loue is still most precious in it selfe,
And Siluia (witnesse heauen that made her faire)
Shewes Iulia but a swarthy Ethiope.
I will forget that Iulia is aliue,
Remembring that my Loue to her is dead.
And Valentine Ile hold an Enemie,
Ayming at Siluia as a sweeter friend.
I cannot now proue constant to my selfe,
Without some treachery vs'd to Valentine.
This night he meaneth with a Corded-ladder
To climbe celestiall Siluia's chamber window,
My selfe in counsaile his competitor.
Now presently Ile giue her father notice
Of their disguising and pretended flight:
Who (all inrag'd) will banish Valentine:
For Thurio he intends shall wed his daughter,
But Valentine being gon, Ile quickely crosse
By some slie tricke, blunt Thurio's dull proceeding.
Loue lend me wings, to make my purpose swift
As thou hast lent me wit, to plot this drift.

Enter.


Scoena septima.

Enter Iulia and Lucetta.

  Iul. Counsaile, Lucetta, gentle girle assist me,
And eu'n in kinde loue, I doe coniure thee,
Who art the Table wherein all my thoughts
Are visibly Character'd, and engrau'd,
To lesson me, and tell me some good meane
How with my honour I may vndertake
A iourney to my louing Protheus

   Luc. Alas, the way is wearisome and long

   Iul. A true-deuoted Pilgrime is not weary
To measure Kingdomes with his feeble steps,
Much lesse shall she that hath Loues wings to flie,
And when the flight is made to one so deere,
Of such diuine perfection as Sir Protheus

   Luc. Better forbeare, till Protheus make returne

   Iul. Oh, know'st y not, his looks are my soules food?
Pitty the dearth that I haue pined in,
By longing for that food so long a time.
Didst thou but know the inly touch of Loue,
Thou wouldst as soone goe kindle fire with snow
As seeke to quench the fire of Loue with words

   Luc. I doe not seeke to quench your Loues hot fire,
But qualifie the fires extreame rage,
Lest it should burne aboue the bounds of reason

   Iul. The more thou dam'st it vp, the more it burnes:
The Current that with gentle murmure glides
(Thou know'st) being stop'd, impatiently doth rage:
But when his faire course is not hindered,
He makes sweet musicke with th' enameld stones,
Giuing a gentle kisse to euery sedge
He ouer-taketh in his pilgrimage.
And so by many winding nookes he straies
With willing sport to the wilde Ocean.
Then let me goe, and hinder not my course:
Ile be as patient as a gentle streame,
And make a pastime of each weary step,
Till the last step haue brought me to my Loue,
And there Ile rest, as after much turmoile
A blessed soule doth in Elizium

   Luc. But in what habit will you goe along?
  Iul. Not like a woman, for I would preuent
The loose encounters of lasciuious men:
Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weedes
As may beseeme some well reputed Page

   Luc. Why then your Ladiship must cut your haire

   Iul. No girle, Ile knit it vp in silken strings,
With twentie od-conceited true-loue knots:
To be fantastique, may become a youth
Of greater time then I shall shew to be

   Luc. What fashion (Madam) shall I make your breeches?
  Iul. That fits as well, as tell me (good my Lord)
What compasse will you weare your Farthingale?
Why eu'n what fashion thou best likes (Lucetta.)
  Luc. You must needs haue the[m] with a cod-peece Ma[dam]
  Iul. Out, out, (Lucetta) that wilbe illfauourd

   Luc. A round hose (Madam) now's not worth a pin
Vnlesse you haue a cod-peece to stick pins on

   Iul. Lucetta, as thou lou'st me let me haue
What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly.
But tell me (wench) how will the world repute me
For vndertaking so vnstaid a iourney?
I feare me it will make me scandaliz'd

   Luc. If you thinke so, then stay at home, and go not

   Iul. Nay, that I will not

   Luc. Then neuer dreame on Infamy, but go:
If Protheus like your iourney, when you come,
No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone:
I feare me he will scarce be pleas'd with all

   Iul. That is the least (Lucetta) of my feare:
A thousand oathes, an Ocean of his teares,
And instances of infinite of Loue,
Warrant me welcome to my Protheus

   Luc. All these are seruants to deceitfull men

   Iul. Base men, that vse them to so base effect;
But truer starres did gouerne Protheus birth,
His words are bonds, his oathes are oracles,
His loue sincere, his thoughts immaculate,
His teares, pure messengers, sent from his heart,
His heart, as far from fraud, as heauen from earth

   Luc. Pray heau'n he proue so when you come to him

   Iul. Now, as thou lou'st me, do him not that wrong,
To beare a hard opinion of his truth:
Onely deserue my loue, by louing him,
And presently goe with me to my chamber
To take a note of what I stand in need of,
To furnish me vpon my longing iourney:
All that is mine I leaue at thy dispose,
My goods, my Lands, my reputation,
Onely, in lieu thereof, dispatch me hence:
Come; answere not: but to it presently,
I am impatient of my tarriance.

Exeunt.


Actus Tertius, Scena Prima.

Enter Duke, Thurio, Protheus, Valentine, Launce, Speed.

  Duke. Sir Thurio, giue vs leaue (I pray) a while,
We haue some secrets to confer about.
Now tell me Protheus, what's your will with me?
  Pro. My gracious Lord, that which I wold discouer,
The Law of friendship bids me to conceale,
But when I call to minde your gracious fauours
Done to me (vndeseruing as I am)
My dutie pricks me on to vtter that
Which else, no worldly good should draw from me:
Know (worthy Prince) Sir Valentine my friend
This night intends to steale away your daughter:
My selfe am one made priuy to the plot.
I know you haue determin'd to bestow her
On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates,
And should she thus be stolne away from you,
It would be much vexation to your age.
Thus (for my duties sake) I rather chose
To crosse my friend in his intended drift,
Then (by concealing it) heap on your head
A pack of sorrowes, which would presse you downe
(Being vnpreuented) to your timelesse graue