SCENE V. _The same. A street._
_Enter SPEED and LAUNCE severally._
_Speed._ Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to Padua!
_Launce._ Forswear not thyself, sweet youth; for I am not
welcome. I reckon this always--that a man is never undone
till he be hanged; nor never welcome to a place till
some certain shot be paid, and the hostess say 'Welcome!' 5
_Speed._ Come on, you madcap, I'll to the alehouse with
you presently; where, for one shot of five pence, thou shalt
have five thousand welcomes. But, sirrah, how did thy
master part with Madam Julia?
_Launce._ Marry, after they closed in earnest, they parted 10
very fairly in jest.
_Speed._ But shall she marry him?
_Launce._ No.
_Speed._ How, then? shall he marry her?
_Launce._ No, neither. 15
_Speed._ What, are they broken?
_Launce._ No, they are both as whole as a fish.
_Speed._ Why, then, how stands the matter with them?
_Launce._ Marry, thus; when it stands well with him, it
stands well with her. 20
_Speed._ What an ass art thou! I understand thee not.
_Launce._ What a block art thou, that thou canst not!
My staff understands me.
_Speed._ What thou sayest?
_Launce._ Ay, and what I do too: look thee, I'll but 25
lean, and my staff understands me.
_Speed._ It stands under thee, indeed.
_Launce._ Why, stand-under and under-stand is all one.
_Speed._ But tell me true, will't be a match?
_Launce._ Ask my dog: if he say ay, it will; if he say, 30
no, it will; if he shake his tail and say nothing, it will.
_Speed._ The conclusion is, then, that it will.
_Launce._ Thou shalt never get such a secret from me
but by a parable.
_Speed._ 'Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how 35
sayest thou, that my master is become a notable lover?
_Launce._ I never knew him otherwise.
_Speed._ Than how?
_Launce._ A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be.
_Speed._ Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistakest me. 40
_Launce._ Why fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy master.
_Speed._ I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover.
_Launce._ Why, I tell thee, I care not though he burn
himself in love. If thou wilt, go with me to the alehouse;
if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name 45
of a Christian.
_Speed._ Why?
_Launce._ Because thou hast not so much charity in thee
as to go to the ale with a Christian. Wilt thou go?
_Speed._ At thy service. [_Exeunt._ 50
Notes: II, 5.
SCENE V.] SCENA QUINTA F1. SCENA QUARTA F2 F3 F4. SCENE VIII. Pope.
1: _Padua_] Ff. _Milan_ Pope. See note (VII).
4: _be_] _is_ Rowe.
21-28: Put in the margin as spurious by Pope.
36: _that_] F2 F3 F4. _that that_ F1.
44: _in love. If thou wilt, go_] Knight. _in love. If thou wilt go_
Ff. _in love, if thou wilt go_ Collier (Malone conj.).
_alehouse_] F1. _alehouse, so_ F2 F3 F4.
49: _ale_] _ale-house_ Rowe.
SCENE VI. _The same. The DUKE'S 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; 5
Love bade me swear, and Love bids me forswear.
O sweet-suggesting Love, 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. 10
Unheedful vows may needfully be broken;
And he wants wit that wants resolved will
To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better.
Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad,
Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd 15
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; 20
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 most precious in itself;
And Silvia--witness Heaven, that made her fair!-- 25
Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.
I will forget that Julia is alive,
Remembering that my love to her is dead;
And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,
Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend. 30
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. 35
Now presently I'll give her father notice
Of their disguising and pretended flight;
Who, all enraged, will banish Valentine;
For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter;
But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross 40
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! [_Exit._
Notes: II, 6.
SCENE VI.] SCENE IX. Pope.
Enter PROTEUS.] Enter PROTHEUS solus. Ff.
1, 2: _forsworn; ... forsworn;_] Theobald. _forsworn? ... forsworn?_
Ff.
7: _sweet-suggesting_] _sweet suggestion,_ Pope.
_if thou hast_] _if I have_ Warburton.
16: _soul-confirming_] _soul-confirmed_ Pope.
21: _thus_] _this_ Theobald.
_by_] F1. _but_ F2 F3 F4.
24: _most_] _more_ Steevens.
_in_] _to_ Collier MS.
35: _counsel_] _counsaile_ F1 F2. _councel_ F3. _council_ F4.
37: _pretended_] _intended_ Johnson conj.
43: _this_] F1. _his_ F2 F3 F4.
SCENE VII. _Verona. 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 character'd and engraved,
To lesson me; and tell me some good mean, 5
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; 10
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? 15
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 wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow
As seek to quench the fire of love with words. 20
_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 damm'st it up, the more it burns.
The current that with gentle murmur glides, 25
Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;
But when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage; 30
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, 35
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 40
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 45
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 breeches?
_Jul._ That fits as well as, 'Tell me, good my lord, 50
What compass will you wear your farthingale?'
Why even what fashion thou best likest, Lucetta.
_Luc._ You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam.
_Jul._ Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd.
_Luc._ A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin, 55
Unless you have a codpiece to stick pins on.
_Jul._ Lucetta, as thou lovest 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? 60
I fear me, it will make me scandalized.
_Luc._ If you think so, then stay at home, and go not.
_Jul._ Nay, that I will not.
_Luc._ Then never dream on infamy, but go.
If Proteus like your journey when you come, 65
No matter who's displeased when you are gone:
I fear me, he will scarce be pleased withal.
_Jul._ That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear:
A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
And instances of infinite of love, 70
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; 75
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 lovest me, do him not that wrong, 80
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. 85
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. [_Exeunt._ 90
Notes: II, 7.
SCENE VII.] SCENE X. Pope.
13: _perfection_] F1 F2 F4. _perfections_ F3.
18: _inly_] F1 F2. _inchly_ F3 F4.
22: _extreme_] _extremest_ Pope.
32: _wild_] _wide_ Collier MS.
47: _fantastic_] _fantantastique_ F2.
52: _likest_] Pope. _likes_ Ff.
67: _withal_] _with all_ F1 F4. _withall_ F2 F3.
70: _of infinite_] F1. _as infinite_ F2 F3 F4. _of the infinite_
Malone.
85: _longing_] _loving_ Collier MS.
89: _to it_] _do it_ Warburton.
ACT III.
SCENE I. _Milan. Ante-room in the DUKE'S palace._
_Enter DUKE, THURIO, and PROTEUS._
_Duke._ Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile;
We have some secrets to confer about. [_Exit Thu._
Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me?
_Pro._ My gracious lord, that which I would discover
The law of friendship bids me to conceal; 5
But when I call to mind your gracious favours
Done to me, undeserving as I am,
My duty pricks me on to utter that
Which else no worldly good should draw from me.
Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine, my friend, 10
This night intends to steal away your daughter:
Myself am one made privy to the plot.
I know you have determined to bestow her
On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates;
And should she thus be stol'n away from you, 15
It would be much vexation to your age.
Thus, for my duty's sake, I rather chose
To cross my friend in his intended drift
Than, by concealing it, heap on your head
A pack of sorrows, which would press you down, 20
Being unprevented, to your timeless grave.
_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; 25
And oftentimes have purposed 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, 30
I gave him gentle looks; thereby to find
That which thyself hast now disclosed to me.
And, that thou mayst perceive my fear of this,
Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested,
I nightly lodge her in an upper tower, 35
The key whereof myself have ever kept;
And thence she cannot be convey'd away.
_Pro._ Know, noble lord, they have devised a mean
How he her chamber-window will ascend,
And with a corded ladder fetch her down; 40
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; 45
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._ 50
_Enter VALENTINE._
_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,
And I am going to deliver them.
_Duke._ Be they of much import? 55
_Val._ The tenour of them doth but signify
My health and happy being at your court.
_Duke._ Nay then, no matter; stay with me awhile;
I am to break with thee of some affairs
That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret. 60
'Tis not unknown to thee that I have sought
To match my friend Sir Thurio to my daughter.
_Val._ I know it well, my Lord; and, sure, the match
Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentleman
Is full of virtue, bounty, worth and qualities 65
Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter:
Cannot your Grace win her to fancy him?
_Duke._ No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward,
Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty;
Neither regarding that she is my child, 70
Nor fearing me as if I were her father:
And, may I say to thee, this pride of hers,
Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her;
And, where I thought the remnant of mine age
Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty, 75
I now am full resolved to take a wife,
And turn her out to who will take her in:
Then let her beauty be her wedding-dower;
For me and my possessions she esteems not.
_Val._ What would your Grace have me to do in this? 80
_Duke._ There is a lady in Verona 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; 85
Besides, the fashion of the time is changed,--
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 90
More than quick words do move a woman's mind.
_Duke._ But she did scorn a present that I sent her.
_Val._ A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her.
Send her another; never give her o'er;
For scorn at first makes afterlove the more. 95
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; 100
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. 105
_Duke._ But she I mean is promised 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. 110
_Duke._ Ay, but the doors be lock'd, and keys kept safe,
That no man hath recourse to her by night.
_Val._ What lets 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 115
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. 120
_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. 125
_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. 130
_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? 135
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; 140
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, 145
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 would be.
What's here? 150
'Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee.'
'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.
Why, Phaethon,--for thou art Merops' son,--
Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car,
And with thy daring folly burn the world? 155
Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee?
Go, base intruder! overweening slave!
Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates;
And think my patience, more than thy desert,
Is privilege for thy departure hence: 160
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, 165
By heaven! my wrath shall far exceed the love
I ever bore my daughter or thyself.
Be gone! I will not hear thy vain excuse;
But, as thou lovest thy life, make speed from hence. [_Exit._
_Val._ And why not death rather than living torment? 170
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? 175
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, 180
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, illumined, cherish'd, kept alive.
I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom: 185
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.
_Launce._ Soho, soho!
_Pro._ What seest thou? 190
_Launce._ 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? 195
_Val._ Neither.
_Pro._ What then?
_Val._ Nothing.
_Launce._ Can nothing speak? Master, shall I strike?
_Pro._ Who wouldst thou strike? 200
_Launce._ Nothing.
_Pro._ Villain, forbear.
_Launce._ Why, sir, I'll strike nothing: I pray you,--
_Pro._ Sirrah, I say, forbear. Friend Valentine, a word.
_Val._ My ears are stopt, and cannot hear good news, 205
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. 210
_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? 215
_Launce._ Sir, there is a proclamation that you are vanished.
_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. 220
Doth Silvia know that I am banished?
_Pro._ Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom--
Which, unreversed, stands in effectual force--
A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears:
Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd; 225
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, 230
Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire;
But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die.
Besides, her intercession chafed him so,
When she for thy repeal was suppliant,
That to close prison he commanded her, 235
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. 240
_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. 245
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. 250
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 lovest Silvia, though not for thyself, 255
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! 260
[_Exeunt Val. and Pro._
_Launce._ 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 265
'tis a woman; but what woman, I will not tell myself; and
yet 'tis a milkmaid; 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. 270
[_Pulling out a paper._]
Here is the cate-log of her condition. '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. 275
_Enter SPEED._
_Speed._ How now, Signior Launce! what news with your mastership?
_Launce._ 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? 280
_Launce._ The blackest news that ever thou heardest.
_Speed._ Why, man, how black?
_Launce._ Why, as black as ink.
_Speed._ Let me read them.
_Launce._ Fie on thee, jolt-head! thou canst not read. 285
_Speed._ Thou liest; I can.
_Launce._ I will try thee. Tell me this: who begot thee?
_Speed._ Marry, the son of my grandfather.
_Launce._ O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy grandmother:
this proves that thou canst not read. 290
_Speed._ Come, fool, come; try me in thy paper.
_Launce._ There; and Saint Nicholas be thy speed!
_Speed_ [_reads_]. 'Imprimis: She can milk.'
_Launce._ Ay, that she can.
_Speed._ 'Item: She brews good ale.' 295
_Launce._ And thereof comes the proverb: 'Blessing of
your heart, you brew good ale.'
_Speed._ 'Item: She can sew.'
_Launce._ That's as much as to say, Can she so?
_Speed._ 'Item: She can knit.' 300
_Launce._ 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.'
_Launce._ A special virtue; for then she need not be
washed and scoured. 305
_Speed._ 'Item: She can spin.'
_Launce._ Then may I set the world on wheels, when
she can spin for her living.
_Speed._ 'Item: She hath many nameless virtues.'
_Launce._ That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; 310
that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have no
names.
_Speed._ 'Here follow her vices.'
_Launce._ Close at the heels of her virtues.
_Speed._ 'Item: She is not to be kissed fasting, in respect 315
of her breath.'
_Launce._ Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast.
Read on.
_Speed._ 'Item: She hath a sweet mouth.'
_Launce._ That makes amends for her sour breath. 320
_Speed._ 'Item: She doth talk in her sleep.'
_Launce._ It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk.
_Speed._ 'Item: She is slow in words.'
_Launce._ O villain, that set this down among her vices! 325
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.'
_Launce._ Out with that too; it was Eve's legacy, and
cannot be ta'en from her. 330
_Speed._ 'Item: She hath no teeth.'
_Launce._ I care not for that neither, because I love crusts.
_Speed._ 'Item: She is curst.'
_Launce._ Well, the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. 335
_Speed._ 'Item: She will often praise her liquor.'
_Launce._ 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.'
_Launce._ Of her tongue she cannot, for that's writ down 340
she is slow of; of her purse she shall not, for that I'll keep
shut: now, of another thing she may, and that cannot I
help. Well, proceed.
_Speed._ 'Item: She hath more hair than wit, and more
faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.' 345
_Launce._ 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,'--
_Launce._ More hair than wit? It may be; I'll prove it. 350
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,'--
_Launce._ That's monstrous: O, that that were out! 355
_Speed._ 'And more wealth than faults.'
_Launce._ Why, that word makes the faults gracious.
Well, I'll have her: and if it be a match, as nothing is
impossible,--
_Speed._ What then? 360
_Launce._ Why, then will I tell thee--that thy master
stays for thee at the North-gate?
_Speed._ For me?
_Launce._ For thee! ay, who art thou? he hath stayed
for a better man than thee. 365
_Speed._ And must I go to him?
_Launce._ Thou must run to him, for thou hast stayed
so long, that going will scarce serve the turn.
_Speed._ Why didst not tell me sooner? pox of your
love-letters! [_Exit._ 370
_Launce._ 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._
Notes: III, 1.
Ante-room] Capell.
2: [Exit Thu.] Rowe.
7: _as_] F1 F3 F4. _as as_ F2.
21: _Being_] _If_ Pope.
_unprevented_] F1 F2. _unprepared_ F3 F4.
32: _hast_] _hath_ Pope.
33: _that_] F1. om. F2 F3 F4.
50: [Exit] Rowe.
Enter Valentine.] om. F1. [Enter. F2 F3 F4.
51: SCENE II. Pope.
_whither_] F2. _whether_ F1 (and elsewhere).
56: _tenour_] _tenure_ Ff.
72: _may I_] _I may_ Hanmer.
78: _dower_] _dowre_ Ff. _dowry_ Hanmer.
81: _in Verona_] Ff. _sir, in Milan_ Pope. _in Milano_ Collier MS.
_of Verona_ Halliwell. See note (VII).
83: _nought_] F2 F3 F4. _naught_ F1.
89: _respect_] F1 F2 F3. _respects_ F4.
92: _that I sent her_] _that I sent, sir_ Steevens conj.
93: _contents_] _content_ Mason conj.
98: _'tis_] F1 F3 F4. _'its_ F2.
99: _For why, the_] _For why the_ Dyce.
105: _with_] F1 F3 F4. _this_ F2.
139: [Reads] Rowe.
149: _would be_] F2 F3 F4. _should be_ F1.
151: _I will_] F1 F2 F3. _will I_ F4.
154: _car_] _cat_ F3 F4.
169: [Exit] F2.
170: SCENE III. Pope.
Enter PRO. and LAUNCE] F2.
189: _Soho, soho!_] _So-hough, Soa hough--_ F1.
200: _Who_] F1. _Whom_ F2 F3 F4.
204: _Sirrah_] om. Pope.
216: _vanished_] _vanish'd_ Pope.
217: _banished--O that's_] _banish'd: oh, that's_ Ff. _banish'd--O,
that is_ Pope. _banished--_ Val. _Oh, that's the news!_ Pro. _From
hence, ... _ Edd. conj.
260: [Exeunt Val. and Pro.] Exeunt. F2.
261: SCENE VI. Pope, by misprint for IV.
263: _one knave_] _one kind of knave_ Hanmer. _one kind_ Warburton.
_one in love_ Staunton conj.
270: [Pulling out a paper] Rowe.
271: _cate-log_] _cat-log_ Pope.
_condition_] F1 F2 F3. _conditions_ F4.
274: _milk;' look you,_] _milk, look you;_' Capell.
276: Enter Speed] F2.
278: _master's ship_] Theobald. _Mastership_ Ff.
293, 294: om. Farmer conj.
293: _Imprimis_] _Item_ Halliwell.
304: _need not be_] F1. _need not to be_ F2 F3 F4.
313: _follow_] F1. _followes_ F2. _follows_ F3 F4.
315: _kissed_] Rowe. om. Ff.
322: _sleep_] _slip_ Collier MS.
325: _O ... this_] _O villaine, that set this_ F1. _O villainy,
that set_ F2 F3. _Oh villain! that set_ F4. _O villainy that set
this_ Malone.
342: _cannot I_] _I cannot_ Steevens.
344: _hair_] F1. _hairs_ F2 F3 F4.
347: _that last_] F1. (in some copies only, according to Malone.)
_that_ F2 F3 F4.
350: _It may be; I'll prove it_] Theobald. _It may be I'll prove it_
Ff.
369: _of_] F1 F2. om. F3 F4.
370: [Exit] Capell.
373: [Exit.] Capell. [Exeunt. Ff.
SCENE II. _The same. The DUKE'S palace._
_Enter DUKE and THURIO._
_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. 5
_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. 10
_Enter PROTEUS._
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. 15
_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 20
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 25
How she opposes her against my will.
_Pro._ She did, my lord, when Valentine was here.
_Duke._ Ay, and perversely she persevers so.
What might we do to make the girl forget
The love of Valentine, and love Sir Thurio? 30
_Pro._ The best way is to slander Valentine
With falsehood, 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: 35
Therefore it must with circumstance 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 loath to do:
'Tis an ill office for a gentleman, 40
Especially against his very friend.
_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. 45
_Pro._ You have prevail'd, my lord: if I can do it
By ought that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not long continue love to him.
But say this weed her love from Valentine,
It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio. 50
_Thu._ Therefore, as you unwind her love from him,
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. 55
_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 60
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 by your persuasion
To hate young Valentine and love my friend. 65
_Pro._ As much as I can do, I will effect:
But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough;
You must lay lime to tangle her desires
By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes
Should be full-fraught with serviceable vows. 70
_Duke._ Ay,
Much is the 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 75
Moist it again; and frame some feeling line
That may discover such integrity:
For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews;
Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,
Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans 80
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: the night's dead silence 85
Will well become such sweet-complaining grievance.
This, or else nothing, will inherit her.
_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, 90
Let us into the city presently
To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music.
I have a sonnet that will serve the turn
To give the onset to thy good advice.
_Duke._ About it, gentlemen! 95
_Pro._ We'll wait upon your Grace till after supper,
And afterward determine our proceedings.
_Duke._ Even now about it! I will pardon you. [_Exeunt._
Notes: III, 2.
SCENE II.] SCENE V. Pope.
14: _grievously._] _grievously?_ F1. (in some copies only, according
to Malone). _heavily?_ F2 F3. _heavily._ F4.
18: _some_] _sure_ Collier MS.
19: _better_] _bolder_ Capell conj.
20: _loyal_] F1 F3 F4. _royall_ F2.
21: _your_] F1 F3 F4. _you_ F2.
_Grace_] _face_ Anon. conj.
25: _I think_] F1. _I doe think_ F2 F3 F4.
28: _persevers_] F1 F2. _perseveres_ F3 F4.
37: _esteemeth_] F1. _esteemes_ F2. _esteems_ F3 F4.
49: _weed_] Ff. _wean_ Rowe.
55: _worth_] _word_ Capell conj.
64: _Where_] _When_ Collier MS.
71, 72: _Ay, Much_] Capell. _I, much_ Ff. _Much_ Pope.
76: _line_] _lines_ S. Verges conj.
77: _such_] _strict_ Collier MS. _love's_ S. Verges conj. Malone
suggests that a line has been lost to this purport: _'As her
obdurate heart may penetrate.'_
81: _to_] F1. _and_ F2 F3 F4.
84: _concert_] Hanmer. _consort_ Ff.
86: _sweet-complaining_] Capell. _sweet complaining_ Ff.
94: _advice_] F2 F3 F4. _advise_ F1.
ACT IV.
SCENE I. _The frontiers of Mantua. A forest._
_Enter certain _Outlaws_._
_First Out._ Fellows, stand fast; I see a passenger.
_Sec. Out._ If there be ten, shrink not, but down with 'em.
_Enter VALENTINE and SPEED._
_Third Out._ Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about ye:
If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you.
_Speed._ Sir, we are undone; these are the villains 5
That all the travellers do fear so much.
_Val._ My friends,--
_First Out._ That's not so, sir: we are your enemies.
_Sec. Out._ Peace! we'll hear him.
_Third Out._ Ay, by my beard, will we, for he's a proper man. 10
_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,
You take the sum and substance that I have. 15
_Sec. Out._ Whither travel you?
_Val._ To Verona.
_First Out._ Whence came you?
_Val._ From Milan.
_Third Out._ Have you long sojourned there? 20
_Val._ Some sixteen months, and longer might have stay'd,
If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.
_First Out._ What, were you banish'd thence?
_Val._ I was.
_Sec. Out._ For what offence? 25
_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.
_First Out._ Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so. 30
But were you banish'd for so small a fault?
_Val._ I was, and held me glad of such a doom.
_Sec. Out._ Have you the tongues?
_Val._ My youthful travel therein made me happy,
Or else I often had been miserable. 35
_Third Out._ By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar,
This fellow were a king for our wild faction!
_First Out._ We'll have him. Sirs, a word.
_Speed._ Master, be one of them; it's an honourable kind
of thievery. 40
_Val._ Peace, villain!
_Sec. Out._ Tell us this: have you any thing to take to?
_Val._ Nothing but my fortune.
_Third Out._ Know, then, that some of us are gentlemen,
Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth 45
Thrust from the company of awful men:
Myself was from Verona banished
For practising to steal away a lady,
An heir, and near allied unto the duke.
_Sec. Out._ And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, 50
Who, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart.
_First Out._ And I for such like petty crimes as these.
But to the purpose,--for we cite our faults,
That they may hold excused our lawless lives;
And partly, seeing you are beautified 55
With goodly shape, and by your own report
A linguist, and a man of such perfection
As we do in our quality much want,--
_Sec. Out._ Indeed, because you are a banish'd man,
Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you: 60
Are you content to be our general?
To make a virtue of necessity,
And live, as we do, in this wilderness?
_Third Out._ What say'st thou? wilt thou be of our consort?
Say ay, and be the captain of us all: 65
We'll do thee homage and be ruled by thee,
Love thee as our commander and our king.
_First Out._ But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest.
_Sec. Out._ Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offer'd.
_Val._ I take your offer, and will live with you, 70
Provided that you do no outrages
On silly women or poor passengers.
_Third 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; 75
Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. [_Exeunt._
Notes: IV, 1.
SCENE I. The frontiers ... forest.] Capell. A forest. Rowe.
A forest leading towards Mantua. Warburton.
2: _shrink_] _shrinkd_ F2.
4: _sit_] F1 F2. _sir_ F3 F4.
5: _Sir_] _O sir_ Capell.
6: _do_] om. Pope, who prints lines 5 and 6 as prose.
9: _Peace!_] _Peace, peace!_ Capell.
11: _little wealth_] F1. _little_ F2 F3 F4. _little left_ Hanmer.
18: _Whence_] _And whence_ Capell, who reads 16-20 as two lines
ending _came you? ... there?_
35: _ I often had been_] F2. _I often had been often_ F1. _often had
been_ (om. _I_) F3 F4. _I had been often_ Collier.
39, 40: _it's ... thievery_] Printed as a verse in Ff. _It is a kind
of honourable thievery_ Steevens.
42: _thing_] F1. _things_ F2 F3 F4.
46: _awful_] _lawful_ Heath conj.
49: _An heir, and near allied_] Theobald. _And heire and Neece,
allide_ F1 F2. _An heir, and Neice allide_ F3. _An Heir, and
Neece alli'd_ F4.
51: _Who_] _Whom_ Pope.
60: _Therefore_] F1 F2. _There_ F3 F4.
63: _this_] F1. _the_ F2 F3 F4.
74: _crews_] F4. _crewes_ F1 F2 F3. _cave_ Collier MS. _caves_
Singer. _crew_ Delius conj. _cruives_ Bullock conj.
76: _all_] _shall_ Pope.
SCENE II. _Milan. Outside the DUKE'S palace, under SILVIA'S chamber._
_Enter PROTEUS._
_Pro._ Already have I been false to Valentine,
And now I must be as unjust to Thurio.
Under the colour of commending him,
I have access my own love to prefer:
But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy, 5
To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.
When I protest true loyalty to her,
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 10
In breaking faith with Julia whom I loved:
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. 15
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. 20
_Tim._ Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here.
_Pro._ Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence.
_Thu._ Who? Silvia?
_Pro._ Ay, Silvia; for your sake.
_Thu._ I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen,
Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile. 25
_Enter, at a distance, HOST, and JULIA in boy's 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 30
you asked for.
_Jul._ But shall I hear him speak?
_Host._ Ay, that you shall.
_Jul._ That will be music. [_Music plays._
_Host._ Hark, hark! 35
_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; 40
The heaven 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, 45
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 50
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.
_Jul._ You mistake; the musician likes me not. 55
_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. 60
_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. 65
_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 70
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 75
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. 80
[_Exeunt Thu. and Musicians._
_Enter SILVIA above._
_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 would quickly learn to know him by his voice. 85
_Sil._ Sir Proteus, as I take it.
_Pro._ Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant.
_Sil._ What's 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. 90
Thou subtle, perjured, false, disloyal man!
Think'st thou I am so shallow, so conceitless,
To be seduced by thy flattery,
That hast deceived so many with thy vows?
Return, return, and make thy love amends. 95
For me,--by this pale queen of night I swear,
I am so far from granting thy request,
That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit;
And by and by intend to chide myself
Even for this time I spend in talking to thee. 100
_Pro._ I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady;
But she is dead.
_Jul._ [_Aside_] 'Twere false, if I should speak it;
For I am sure she is not buried.
_Sil._ Say that she be; yet Valentine thy friend
Survives; to whom, thyself art witness, 105
I am betroth'd: and art thou not ashamed
To wrong him with thy importunacy?
_Pro._ I likewise hear that Valentine is dead.
_Sil._ And so suppose am I; for in his grave
Assure thyself my love is buried. 110
_Pro._ Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth.
_Sil._ Go to thy lady's grave, and call hers thence;
Or, at the least, in hers sepulchre thine.
_Jul._ [_Aside_] He heard not that.
_Pro._ Madam, if your heart be so obdurate, 115
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; 120
And to your shadow will I make true love.
_Jul._ [_Aside_] If 'twere a substance, you would,
sure, deceive it,
And make it but a shadow, as I am.
_Sil._ I am very loath to be your idol, sir;
But since your falsehood shall become you well 125
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'ernight
That wait for execution in the morn.
[_Exeunt Pro. and Sil. severally._
_Jul._ Host, will you go? 130
_Host._ By my halidom, I was fast asleep.
_Jul._ Pray you, where lies Sir Proteus?
_Host._ Marry, at my house. Trust me, I think 'tis
almost day.
_Jul._ Not so; but it hath been the longest night 135
That e'er I watch'd, and the most heaviest. [_Exeunt._
