Chapter IV: Part 4

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

Duke. Protheus, I thank thee for thine honest care, Which to requite, command me while I liue. This loue of theirs, my selfe haue often seene, Haply when they haue iudg'd me fast asleepe, And oftentimes haue purpos'd to forbid Sir Valentine her companie, and my Court. But fearing lest my iealous ayme might erre, And so (vnworthily) disgrace the man (A rashnesse that I euer yet haue shun'd) I gaue him gentle lookes, thereby to finde That which thy selfe hast now disclos'd to me. And that thou maist perceiue my feare of this, Knowing that tender youth is soone suggested, I nightly lodge her in an vpper Towre, The key whereof, my selfe haue euer kept: And thence she cannot be conuay'd away

Pro. Know (noble Lord) they haue deuis'd a meane How he her chamber-window will ascend, And with a Corded-ladder fetch her downe: For which, the youthfull Louer now is gone, And this way comes he with it presently. Where (if it please you) you may intercept him. But (good my Lord) doe it so cunningly That my discouery be not aimed at: For, loue of you, not hate vnto my friend, Hath made me publisher of this pretence

Duke. Vpon mine Honor, he shall neuer know
That I had any light from thee of this

Pro. Adiew, my Lord, Sir Valentine is comming

Duk. Sir Valentine, whether away so fast?
Val. Please it your Grace, there is a Messenger
That stayes to beare my Letters to my friends,
And I am going to deliuer them

Duk. Be they of much import?
Val. The tenure of them doth but signifie
My health, and happy being at your Court

Duk. Nay then no matter: stay with me a while, I am to breake with thee of some affaires That touch me neere: wherein thou must be secret. 'Tis not vnknown to thee, that I haue 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 Vertue, Bounty, Worth, and Qualities Beseeming such a Wife, as your faire daughter: Cannot your Grace win her to fancie him? Duk. No, trust me, She is peeuish, sullen, froward, Prowd, disobedient, stubborne, lacking duty, Neither regarding that she is my childe, Nor fearing me, as if I were her father: And may I say to thee, this pride of hers (Vpon aduice) hath drawne my loue from her, And where I thought the remnant of mine age Should haue beene cherish'd by her child-like dutie, I now am full resolu'd to take a wife, And turne her out, to who will take her in: Then let her beauty be her wedding dowre: For me, and my possessions she esteemes not

Val. What would your Grace haue me to do in this? Duk. There is a Lady in Verona heere Whom I affect: but she is nice, and coy, And naught esteemes my aged eloquence. Now therefore would I haue thee to my Tutor (For long agone I haue forgot to court, Besides the fashion of the time is chang'd) How, and which way I may bestow my selfe To be regarded in her sun-bright eye

Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words, Dumbe Iewels often in their silent kinde More then quicke words, doe moue a womans minde

Duk. But she did scorne a present that I sent her, Val. A woman somtime scorns what best co[n]tents her. Send her another: neuer giue her ore, For scorne at first, makes after-loue the more. If she doe frowne, 'tis not in hate of you, But rather to beget more loue in you. If she doe chide, 'tis not to haue you gone, For why, the fooles are mad, if left alone. Take no repulse, what euer she doth say, For, get you gon, she doth not meane away. Flatter, and praise, commend, extoll their graces: Though nere so blacke, say they haue Angells faces, That man that hath a tongue, I say is no man, If with his tongue he cannot win a woman

Duk. But she I meane, is promis'd by her friends Vnto a youthfull Gentleman of worth, And kept seuerely from resort of men, That no man hath accesse by day to her

Val. Why then I would resort to her by night

Duk. I, but the doores be lockt, and keyes kept safe,
That no man hath recourse to her by night

Val. What letts but one may enter at her window?
Duk. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground,
And built so sheluing, that one cannot climbe it
Without apparant hazard of his life

Val. Why then a Ladder quaintly made of Cords To cast vp, with a paire of anchoring hookes, Would serue to scale another Hero's towre, So bold Leander would aduenture it

Duk. Now as thou art a Gentleman of blood
Aduise me, where I may haue such a Ladder

Val. When would you vse it? pray sir, tell me that

Duk. This very night; for Loue is like a childe
That longs for euery thing that he can come by

Val. By seauen a clock, ile get you such a Ladder

Duk But harke thee: I will goe to her alone,
How shall I best conuey the Ladder thither?
Val. It will be light (my Lord) that you may beare it
Vnder a cloake, that is of any length

Duk. A cloake as long as thine will serue the turne?
Val. I my good Lord

Duk. Then let me see thy cloake,
Ile get me one of such another length

Val. Why any cloake will serue the turn (my Lord) Duk. How shall I fashion me to weare a cloake? I pray thee let me feele thy cloake vpon me. What Letter is this same? what's here? to Siluia? And heere an Engine fit for my proceeding, Ile be so bold to breake the seale for once. My thoughts do harbour with my Siluia nightly, And slaues they are to me, that send them flying. Oh, could their Master come, and goe as lightly, Himselfe would lodge where (senceles) they are lying. My Herald Thoughts, in thy pure bosome rest-them, While I (their King) that thither them importune Doe curse the grace, that with such grace hath blest them, Because my selfe doe want my seruants fortune. I curse my selfe, for they are sent by me, That they should harbour where their Lord should be. What's here? Siluia, this night I will enfranchise thee. 'Tis so: and heere's the Ladder for the purpose. Why Phaeton (for thou art Merops sonne) Wilt thou aspire to guide the heauenly Car? And with thy daring folly burne the world? Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee? Goe base Intruder, ouer-weening Slaue, Bestow thy fawning smiles on equall mates, And thinke my patience, (more then thy desert) Is priuiledge for thy departure hence. Thanke me for this, more then for all the fauors Which (all too-much) I haue bestowed on thee. But if thou linger in my Territories Longer then swiftest expedition Will giue thee time to leaue our royall Court, By heauen, my wrath shall farre exceed the loue I euer bore my daughter, or thy selfe. Be gone, I will not heare thy vaine excuse, But as thou lou'st thy life, make speed from hence

Val. And why not death, rather then liuing torment? To die, is to be banisht from my selfe, And Siluia is my selfe: banish'd from her Is selfe from selfe. A deadly banishment: What light, is light, if Siluia be not seene? What ioy is ioy, if Siluia be not by? Vnlesse it be to thinke that she is by And feed vpon the shadow of perfection. Except I be by Siluia in the night, There is no musicke in the Nightingale. Vnlesse I looke on Siluia in the day, There is no day for me to looke vpon. Shee is my essence, and I leaue to be; If I be not by her faire influence Foster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept aliue. I flie not death, to flie his deadly doome, Tarry I heere, I but attend on death, But flie I hence, I flie away from life

Pro. Run (boy) run, run, and seeke him out

Lau. So-hough, Soa hough-
Pro. What seest thou?
Lau. Him we goe to finde,
There's not a haire on's head, but 'tis a Valentine

Pro. Valentine?
Val. No

Pro. Who then? his Spirit?
Val. Neither,
Pro. What then?
Val. Nothing

Lau. Can nothing speake? Master, shall I strike?
Pro. Who wouldst thou strike?
Lau. Nothing

Pro. Villaine, forbeare

Lau. Why Sir, Ile strike nothing: I pray you

Pro. Sirha, I say forbeare: friend Valentine, a word

Val. My eares are stopt, & cannot hear good newes,
So much of bad already hath possest them

Pro. Then in dumbe silence will I bury mine,
For they are harsh, vn-tuneable, and bad

Val. Is Siluia dead?
Pro. No, Valentine

Val. No Valentine indeed, for sacred Siluia,
Hath she forsworne me?
Pro. No, Valentine

Val. No Valentine, if Siluia haue forsworne me.
What is your newes?
Lau. Sir, there is a proclamation, y you are vanished

Pro. That thou art banish'd: oh that's the newes,
From hence, from Siluia, and from me thy friend

Val. Oh, I haue fed vpon this woe already, And now excesse of it will make me surfet. Doth Siluia know that I am banish'd? Pro. I, I: and she hath offered to the doome (Which vn-reuerst stands in effectuall force) A Sea of melting pearle, which some call teares; Those at her fathers churlish feete she tenderd, With them vpon her knees, her humble selfe, Wringing her hands, whose whitenes so became them, As if but now they waxed pale for woe: But neither bended knees, pure hands held vp, Sad sighes, deepe grones, nor siluer-shedding teares Could penetrate her vncompassionate Sire; But Valentine, if he be tane, must die. Besides, her intercession chaf'd him so, When she for thy repeale was suppliant, That to close prison he commanded her, With many bitter threats of biding there

Val. No more: vnles the next word that thou speak'st Haue some malignant power vpon my life: If so: I pray thee breath it in mine eare, As ending Antheme of my endlesse dolor

Pro. Cease to lament for that thou canst not helpe, And study helpe for that which thou lament'st, Time is the Nurse, and breeder of all good; Here, if thou stay, thou canst not see thy loue: Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life: Hope is a louers staffe, walke 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 deliuer'd Euen in the milke-white bosome of thy Loue. The time now serues not to expostulate, Come, Ile conuey thee through the City-gate. And ere I part with thee, confer at large Of all that may concerne thy Loue-affaires: As thou lou'st Siluia (though not for thy selfe) Regard thy danger, and along with me

Val. I pray thee Launce, and if thou seest my Boy
Bid him make haste, and meet me at the North-gate

Pro. Goe sirha, finde him out: Come Valentine

Val. Oh my deere Siluia; haplesse Valentine

Launce. I am but a foole, looke you, and yet I haue the wit to thinke my Master is a kinde of a knaue: but that's all one, if he be but one knaue: He liues not now that knowes me to be in loue, yet I am in loue, but a Teeme of horse shall not plucke that from me: nor who 'tis I loue: and yet 'tis a woman; but what woman, I will not tell my selfe: and yet 'tis a Milke-maid: yet 'tis not a maid: for shee hath had Gossips: yet 'tis a maid, for she is her Masters maid, and serues for wages. Shee hath more qualities then a Water-Spaniell, which is much in a bare Christian: Heere is the Catelog of her Condition. Inprimis. Shee can fetch and carry: why a horse can doe no more; nay, a horse cannot fetch, but onely carry, therefore is shee better then a Iade. Item. She can milke, looke you, a sweet vertue in a maid with cleane hands

Speed. How now Signior Launce? what newes with
your Mastership?
La. With my Mastership? why, it is at Sea:
Sp. Well, your old vice still: mistake the word: what
newes then in your paper?
La. The black'st newes that euer thou heard'st

Sp. Why man? how blacke?
La. Why, as blacke as Inke

Sp. Let me read them?
La. Fie on thee Iolt-head, thou canst not read

Sp. Thou lyest: I can

La. I will try thee: tell me this: who begot thee?
Sp. Marry, the son of my Grand-father

La. Oh illiterate loyterer; it was the sonne of thy
Grand-mother: this proues that thou canst not read

Sp. Come foole, come: try me in thy paper

La. There: and S[aint]. Nicholas be thy speed

Sp. Inprimis she can milke

La. I that she can

Sp. Item, she brewes good Ale

La. And thereof comes the prouerbe: (Blessing of
your heart, you brew good Ale.)
Sp. Item, she can sowe

La. That's as much as to say (Can she so?)
Sp. Item she can knit

La. What neede a man care for a stock with a wench,
When she can knit him a stocke?
Sp. Item, she can wash and scoure

La. A speciall vertue: for then shee neede not be
wash'd, and scowr'd

Sp. Item, she can spin

La. Then may I set the world on wheeles, when she
can spin for her liuing

Sp. Item, she hath many namelesse vertues

La. That's as much as to say Bastard-vertues: that indeede know not their fathers; and therefore haue no names

Sp. Here follow her vices

La. Close at the heeles of her vertues

Sp. Item, shee is not to be fasting in respect of her
breath

La. Well: that fault may be mended with a breakfast:
read on

Sp. Item, she hath a sweet mouth

La. That makes amends for her soure breath

Sp. Item, she doth talke in her sleepe

La. It's no matter for that; so shee sleepe not in her
talke

Sp. Item, she is slow in words

La. Oh villaine, that set this downe among her vices; To be slow in words, is a womans onely vertue: I pray thee out with't, and place it for her chiefe vertue

Sp. Item, she is proud

La. Out with that too:
It was Eues legacie, and cannot be t'ane from her

Sp. Item, she hath no teeth

La. I care not for that neither: because I loue crusts

Sp. Item, she is curst

La. Well: the best is, she hath no teeth to bite

Sp. Item, she will often praise her liquor

La. If her liquor be good, she shall: if she will not,
I will; for good things should be praised

Sp. Item, she is too liberall

La. Of her tongue she cannot; for that's writ downe she is slow of: of her purse, shee shall not, for that ile keepe shut: Now, of another thing shee may, and that cannot I helpe. Well, proceede

Sp. Item, shee hath more haire then wit, and more
faults then haires, and more wealth then faults

La. Stop there: Ile haue her: she was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that last Article: rehearse that once more

Sp. Item, she hath more haire then wit

La. More haire then wit: it may be ile proue it: The couer of the salt, hides the salt, and therefore it is more then the salt; the haire that couers the wit, is more then the wit; for the greater hides the lesse: What's next? Sp. And more faults then haires

La. That's monstrous: oh that that were out

Sp. And more wealth then faults

La. Why that word makes the faults gracious: Well, ile haue her: and if it be a match, as nothing is impossible

Sp. What then?
La. Why then, will I tell thee, that thy Master staies
for thee at the North gate

Sp. For me?
La. For thee? I, who art thou? he hath staid for a better
man then thee

Sp. And must I goe to him?
La. Thou must run to him; for thou hast staid so long,
that going will scarce serue the turne

Sp. Why didst not tell me sooner? 'pox of your loue
Letters

La. Now will he be swing'd for reading my Letter; An vnmannerly slaue, that will thrust himselfe into secrets: Ile after, to reioyce in the boyes correctio[n].

Exeunt.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Duke, Thurio, Protheus.

Du. Sir Thurio, feare not, but that she will loue you
Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight

Th. Since his exile she hath despis'd me most, Forsworne my company, and rail'd at me, That I am desperate of obtaining her

Du. This weake impresse of Loue, is as a figure Trenched in ice, which with an houres heate Dissolues to water, and doth loose his forme. A little time will melt her frozen thoughts, And worthlesse Valentine shall be forgot. How now sir Protheus, is your countriman (According to our Proclamation) gon? Pro. Gon, my good Lord

Du. My daughter takes his going grieuously?
Pro. A little time (my Lord) will kill that griefe

Du. So I beleeue: but Thurio thinkes not so: Protheus, the good conceit I hold of thee, (For thou hast showne some signe of good desert) Makes me the better to confer with thee

Pro. Longer then I proue loyall to your Grace,
Let me not liue, to looke vpon your Grace

Du. Thou know'st how willingly, I would effect
The match betweene sir Thurio, and my daughter?
Pro. I doe my Lord

Du. And also, I thinke, thou art not ignorant
How she opposes her against my will?
Pro. She did my Lord, when Valentine was here

Du. I, and peruersly, she perseuers so: What might we doe to make the girle forget The loue of Valentine, and loue sir Thurio? Pro. The best way is, to slander Valentine, With falsehood, cowardize, and poore discent: Three things, that women highly hold in hate

Du. I, but she'll thinke, that it is spoke in hate

Pro. I, if his enemy deliuer it. Therefore it must with circumstance be spoken By one, whom she esteemeth as his friend

Du. Then you must vndertake to slander him

Pro. And that (my Lord) I shall be loath to doe: 'Tis an ill office for a Gentleman, Especially against his very friend

Du. Where your good word cannot aduantage him, Your slander neuer can endamage him; Therefore the office is indifferent, Being intreated to it by your friend

Pro. You haue preuail'd (my Lord) if I can doe it By ought that I can speake in his dispraise, She shall not long continue loue to him: But say this weede her loue from Valentine, It followes not that she will loue sir Thurio

Th. Therefore, as you vnwinde her loue from him; Least it should rauell, and be good to none, You must prouide to bottome it on me: Which must be done, by praising me as much As you, in worth dispraise, sir Valentine

Du. And Protheus, we dare trust you in this kinde, Because we know (on Valentines report) You are already loues firme votary, And cannot soone reuolt, and change your minde. Vpon this warrant, shall you haue accesse, Where you, with Siluia, may conferre at large. For she is lumpish, heauy, mellancholly, And (for your friends sake) will be glad of you; Where you may temper her, by your perswasion, To hate yong Valentine, and loue my friend

Pro. As much as I can doe, I will effect: But you sir Thurio, are not sharpe enough: You must lay Lime, to tangle her desires By walefull Sonnets, whose composed Rimes Should be full fraught with seruiceable vowes

Du. I, much is the force of heauen-bred Poesie

Pro. Say that vpon the altar of her beauty You sacrifice your teares, your sighes, your heart: Write till your inke be dry: and with your teares Moist it againe: and frame some feeling line, That may discouer such integrity: For Orpheus Lute, was strung with Poets sinewes, Whose golden touch could soften steele and stones; Make Tygers tame, and huge Leuiathans Forsake vnsounded deepes, to dance on Sands. After your dire-lamenting Elegies, Visit by night your Ladies chamber-window With some sweet Consort; To their Instruments Tune a deploring dumpe: the nights dead silence Will well become such sweet complaining grieuance: This, or else nothing, will inherit her

Du. This discipline, showes thou hast bin in loue

Th. And thy aduice, this night, ile put in practise: Therefore, sweet Protheus, my direction-giuer, Let vs into the City presently To sort some Gentlemen, well skil'd in Musicke. I haue a Sonnet, that will serue the turne To giue the on-set to thy good aduise

Du. About it Gentlemen

Pro. We'll wait vpon your Grace, till after Supper,
And afterward determine our proceedings

Du. Euen now about it, I will pardon you.

Exeunt.

Actus Quartus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Valentine, Speed, and certaine Out-lawes.

1.Outl. Fellowes, stand fast: I see a passenger

2.Out. If there be ten, shrinke not, but down with 'em

3.Out. Stand sir, and throw vs that you haue about 'ye.
If not: we'll make you sit, and rifle you

Sp. Sir we are vndone; these are the Villaines
That all the Trauailers doe feare so much

Val. My friends

1.Out. That's not so, sir: we are your enemies

2.Out. Peace: we'll heare him

3.Out. I by my beard will we: for he is a proper man

Val. Then know that I haue little wealth to loose; A man I am, cross'd with aduersitie: My riches, are these poore habiliments, Of which, if you should here disfurnish me, You take the sum and substance that I haue

2.Out. Whether trauell you?
Val. To Verona

1.Out. Whence came you?
Val. From Millaine

3.Out. Haue you long soiourn'd there?
Val. Some sixteene moneths, and longer might haue staid,
If crooked fortune had not thwarted me

1.Out. What, were you banish'd thence?
Val. I was

2.Out. For what offence? Val. For that which now torments me to rehearse; I kil'd a man, whose death I much repent, But yet I slew him manfully, in fight, Without false vantage, or base treachery

1.Out. Why nere repent it, if it were done so;
But were you banisht for so small a fault?
Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doome

2.Out. Haue you the Tongues?
Val. My youthfull trauaile, therein made me happy,
Or else I often had beene often miserable

3.Out. By the bare scalpe of Robin Hoods fat Fryer,
This fellow were a King, for our wilde faction

1.Out. We'll haue him: Sirs, a word

Sp. Master, be one of them:
It's an honourable kinde of theeuery

Val. Peace villaine

2.Out. Tell vs this: haue you any thing to take to?
Val. Nothing but my fortune

3.Out. Know then, that some of vs are Gentlemen, Such as the fury of vngouern'd youth Thrust from the company of awfull men. My selfe was from Verona banished, For practising to steale away a Lady, And heire and Neece, alide vnto the Duke

2.Out. And I from Mantua, for a Gentleman,
Who, in my moode, I stab'd vnto the heart

1.Out. And I, for such like petty crimes as these. But to the purpose: for we cite our faults, That they may hold excus'd our lawlesse liues; And partly seeing you are beautifide With goodly shape; and by your owne report, A Linguist, and a man of such perfection, As we doe in our quality much want

2.Out. Indeede because you are a banish'd man, Therefore, aboue the rest, we parley to you: Are you content to be our Generall? To make a vertue of necessity, And liue as we doe in this wildernesse? 3.Out. What saist thou? wilt thou be of our consort? Say I, and be the captaine of vs all: We'll doe thee homage, and be rul'd by thee, Loue thee, as our Commander, and our King

1.Out. But if thou scorne our curtesie, thou dyest

2.Out. Thou shalt not liue, to brag what we haue offer'd

Val. I take your offer, and will liue with you, Prouided that you do no outrages On silly women, or poore passengers

3.Out. No, we detest such vile base practises. Come, goe with vs, we'll bring thee to our Crewes, And show thee all the Treasure we haue got; Which, with our selues, all rest at thy dispose.

Exeunt.

Scoena Secunda.

Enter Protheus, Thurio, Iulia, Host, Musitian, Siluia.

Pro. Already haue I bin false to Valentine, And now I must be as vniust to Thurio, Vnder the colour of commending him, I haue accesse my owne loue to prefer. But Siluia is too faire, too true, too holy, To be corrupted with my worthlesse guifts; When I protest true loyalty to her, She twits me with my falsehood to my friend; When to her beauty I commend my vowes, She bids me thinke how I haue bin forsworne In breaking faith with Iulia, whom I lou'd; And notwithstanding all her sodaine quips, The least whereof would quell a louers hope: Yet (Spaniel-like) the more she spurnes my loue, The more it growes, and fawneth on her still; But here comes Thurio; now must we to her window, And giue some euening Musique to her eare

Th. How now, sir Protheus, are you crept before vs?
Pro. I gentle Thurio, for you know that loue
Will creepe in seruice, where it cannot goe

Th. I, but I hope, Sir, that you loue not here

Pro. Sir, but I doe: or else I would be hence

Th. Who, Siluia?
Pro. I, Siluia, for your sake

Th. I thanke you for your owne: Now Gentlemen
Let's tune: and too it lustily a while

Ho. Now, my yong guest; me thinks your' allycholly;
I pray you why is it?
Iu. Marry (mine Host) because I cannot be merry

Ho. Come, we'll haue you merry: ile bring you where you shall heare Musique, and see the Gentleman that you ask'd for

Iu. But shall I heare him speake

Ho. I that you shall

Iu. That will be Musique

Ho. Harke, harke

Iu. Is he among these?
Ho. I: but peace, let's heare'm

Song. Who is Siluia? what is she? That all our Swaines commend her? Holy, faire, and wise is she, The heauen such grace did lend her, that she might admired be. Is she kinde as she is faire? For beauty liues with kindnesse: Loue doth to her eyes repaire, To helpe him of his blindnesse: And being help'd, inhabits there. Then to Siluia, let vs sing, That Siluia is excelling; She excels each mortall thing Vpon the dull earth dwelling. To her let vs Garlands bring

Ho. How now? are you sadder then you were before;
How doe you, man? the Musicke likes you not

Iu. You mistake: the Musitian likes me not

Ho. Why, my pretty youth?
Iu. He plaies false (father.)
Ho. How, out of tune on the strings

Iu. Not so: but yet
So false that he grieues my very heart-strings

Ho. You haue a quicke eare

Iu. I, I would I were deafe: it makes me haue a slow heart

Ho. I perceiue you delight not in Musique

Iu. Not a whit, when it iars so

Ho. Harke, what fine change is in the Musique

Iu. I: that change is the spight

Ho. You would haue them alwaies play but one thing

Iu. I would alwaies haue one play but one thing. But Host, doth this Sir Protheus, that we talke on, Often resort vnto this Gentlewoman? Ho. I tell you what Launce his man told me, He lou'd her out of all nicke

Iu. Where is Launce?
Ho. Gone to seeke his dog, which to morrow, by his
Masters command, hee must carry for a present to his
Lady

Iu. Peace, stand aside, the company parts

Pro. Sir Thurio, feare not you, I will so pleade,
That you shall say, my cunning drift excels

Th. Where meete we?
Pro. At Saint Gregories well

Th. Farewell

Pro. Madam: good eu'n to your Ladiship

Sil. I thanke you for your Musique (Gentlemen)
Who is that that spake?
Pro. One (Lady) if you knew his pure hearts truth,
You would quickly learne to know him by his voice

Sil. Sir Protheus, as I take it

Pro. Sir Protheus (gentle Lady) and your Seruant

Sil. What's your will?
Pro. That I may compasse yours

Sil. You haue your wish: my will is euen this, That presently you hie you home to bed: Thou subtile, periur'd, false, disloyall man: Think'st thou I am so shallow, so conceitlesse, To be seduced by thy flattery, That has't deceiu'd so many with thy vowes? Returne, returne, and make thy loue amends: For me (by this pale queene of night I sweare) I am so farre from granting thy request, That I despise thee, for thy wrongfull suite; And by and by intend to chide my selfe, Euen for this time I spend in talking to thee

Pro. I grant (sweet loue) that I did loue a Lady,
But she is dead

Iu. 'Twere false, if I should speake it;
For I am sure she is not buried

Sil. Say that she be: yet Valentine thy friend Suruiues; to whom (thy selfe art witnesse) I am betroth'd; and art thou not asham'd To wrong him, with thy importunacy? Pro. I likewise heare that Valentine is dead

Sil. And so suppose am I; for in her graue
Assure thy selfe, my loue is buried

Pro. Sweet Lady, let me rake it from the earth

Sil. Goe to thy Ladies graue and call hers thence,
Or at the least, in hers, sepulcher thine

Iul. He heard not that

Pro. Madam: if your heart be so obdurate: Vouchsafe me yet your Picture for my loue, The Picture that is hanging in your chamber: To that ile speake, to that ile sigh and weepe: For since the substance of your perfect selfe Is else deuoted, I am but a shadow; And to your shadow, will I make true loue

Iul. If 'twere a substance you would sure deceiue it,
And make it but a shadow, as I am

Sil. I am very loath to be your Idoll Sir; But, since your falsehood shall become you well To worship shadowes, and adore false shapes, Send to me in the morning, and ile send it: And so, good rest

Pro. As wretches haue ore-night
That wait for execution in the morne

Iul. Host, will you goe?
Ho. By my hallidome, I was fast asleepe

Iul. Pray you, where lies Sir Protheus?
Ho. Marry, at my house:
Trust me, I thinke 'tis almost day

Iul. Not so: but it hath bin the longest night
That ere I watch'd, and the most heauiest.

Scoena Tertia.

Enter Eglamore, Siluia.

Eg. This is the houre that Madam Siluia Entreated me to call, and know her minde: Ther's some great matter she'ld employ me in. Madam, Madam

Sil. Who cals?
Eg. Your seruant, and your friend;
One that attends your Ladiships command

Sil. Sir Eglamore, a thousand times good morrow

Eg. As many (worthy Lady) to your selfe: According to your Ladiships impose, I am thus early come, to know what seruice It is your pleasure to command me in

Sil. Oh Eglamoure, thou art a Gentleman: Thinke not I flatter (for I sweare I doe not) Valiant, wise, remorse-full, well accomplish'd. Thou art not ignorant what deere good will I beare vnto the banish'd Valentine: Nor how my father would enforce me marry Vaine Thurio (whom my very soule abhor'd.) Thy selfe hast lou'd, and I haue heard thee say No griefe did euer come so neere thy heart, As when thy Lady, and thy true-loue dide, Vpon whose Graue thou vow'dst pure chastitie: Sir Eglamoure: I would to Valentine To Mantua, where I heare, he makes aboad; And for the waies are dangerous to passe, I doe desire thy worthy company, Vpon whose faith and honor, I repose. Vrge not my fathers anger (Eglamoure) But thinke vpon my griefe (a Ladies griefe) And on the iustice of my flying hence, To keepe me from a most vnholy match, Which heauen and fortune still rewards with plagues. I doe desire thee, euen from a heart As full of sorrowes, as the Sea of sands, To beare me company, and goe with me: If not, to hide what I haue said to thee, That I may venture to depart alone

Egl. Madam, I pitty much your grieuances, Which, since I know they vertuously are plac'd, I giue consent to goe along with you, Wreaking as little what betideth me, As much, I wish all good befortune you. When will you goe? Sil. This euening comming

Eg. Where shall I meete you?
Sil. At Frier Patrickes Cell,
Where I intend holy Confession

Eg. I will not faile your Ladiship:
Good morrow (gentle Lady.)
Sil. Good morrow, kinde Sir Eglamoure.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter Launce, Protheus, Iulia, Siluia.

Lau. When a mans seruant shall play the Curre with him (looke you) it goes hard: one that I brought vp of a puppy: one that I sau'd from drowning, when three or foure of his blinde brothers and sisters went to it: I haue taught him (euen as one would say precisely, thus I would teach a dog) I was sent to deliuer him, as a present to Mistris Siluia, from my Master; and I came no sooner into the dyning-chamber, but he steps me to her Trencher, and steales her Capons-leg: O, 'tis a foule thing, when a Cur cannot keepe himselfe in all companies: I would haue (as one should say) one that takes vpon him to be a dog indeede, to be, as it were, a dog at all things. If I had not had more wit then he, to take a fault vpon me that he did, I thinke verily hee had bin hang'd for't: sure as I liue he had suffer'd for't: you shall iudge: Hee thrusts me himselfe into the company of three or foure gentleman-like-dogs, vnder the Dukes table: hee had not bin there (blesse the marke) a pissing while, but all the chamber smelt him: out with the dog (saies one) what cur is that (saies another) whip him out (saies the third) hang him vp (saies the Duke.) I hauing bin acquainted with the smell before, knew it was Crab; and goes me to the fellow that whips the dogges: friend (quoth I) you meane to whip the dog: I marry doe I (quoth he) you doe him the more wrong (quoth I) 'twas I did the thing you wot of: he makes me no more adoe, but whips me out of the chamber: how many Masters would doe this for his Seruant? nay, ile be sworne I haue sat in the stockes, for puddings he hath stolne, otherwise he had bin executed: I haue stood on the Pillorie for Geese he hath kil'd, otherwise he had sufferd for't: thou think'st not of this now: nay, I remember the tricke you seru'd me, when I tooke my leaue of Madam Siluia: did not I bid thee still marke me, and doe as I do; when did'st thou see me heaue vp my leg, and make water against a Gentlewomans farthingale? did'st thou euer see me doe such a tricke? Pro. Sebastian is thy name: I like thee well, And will imploy thee in some seruice presently

Iu. In what you please, ile doe what I can

Pro. I hope thou wilt. How now you whorson pezant, Where haue you bin these two dayes loytering? La. Marry Sir, I carried Mistris Siluia the dogge you bad me

Pro. And what saies she to my little Iewell?
La. Marry she saies your dog was a cur, and tels you
currish thanks is good enough for such a present

Pro. But she receiu'd my dog?
La. No indeede did she not:
Here haue I brought him backe againe

Pro. What, didst thou offer her this from me? La. I Sir, the other Squirrill was stolne from me By the Hangmans boyes in the market place, And then I offer'd her mine owne, who is a dog As big as ten of yours, & therefore the guift the greater

Pro. Goe, get thee hence, and finde my dog againe, Or nere returne againe into my sight. Away, I say: stayest thou to vexe me here; A Slaue, that still an end, turnes me to shame: Sebastian, I haue entertained thee, Partly that I haue neede of such a youth, That can with some discretion doe my businesse: For 'tis no trusting to yond foolish Lowt; But chiefely, for thy face, and thy behauiour, Which (if my Augury deceiue me not) Witnesse good bringing vp, fortune, and truth: Therefore know thee, for this I entertaine thee. Go presently, and take this Ring with thee, Deliuer it to Madam Siluia; She lou'd me well, deliuer'd it to me

Iul. It seemes you lou'd not her, not leaue her token:
She is dead belike?
Pro. Not so: I thinke she liues

Iul. Alas

Pro. Why do'st thou cry alas?
Iul. I cannot choose but pitty her

Pro. Wherefore should'st thou pitty her? Iul. Because, me thinkes that she lou'd you as well As you doe loue your Lady Siluia: She dreames on him, that has forgot her loue, You doate on her, that cares not for your loue. 'Tis pitty Loue, should be so contrary: And thinking on it, makes me cry alas

Pro. Well: giue her that Ring, and therewithall This Letter: that's her chamber: Tell my Lady, I claime the promise for her heauenly Picture: Your message done, hye home vnto my chamber, Where thou shalt finde me sad, and solitarie

Iul. How many women would doe such a message? Alas poore Protheus, thou hast entertain'd A Foxe, to be the Shepheard of thy Lambs; Alas, poore foole, why doe I pitty him That with his very heart despiseth me? Because he loues her, he despiseth me, Because I loue him, I must pitty him. This Ring I gaue him, when he parted from me, To binde him to remember my good will: And now am I (vnhappy Messenger) To plead for that, which I would not obtaine; To carry that, which I would haue refus'd; To praise his faith, which I would haue disprais'd. I am my Masters true confirmed Loue, But cannot be true seruant to my Master, Vnlesse I proue false traitor to my selfe. Yet will I woe for him, but yet so coldly, As (heauen it knowes) I would not haue him speed. Gentlewoman, good day: I pray you be my meane To bring me where to speake with Madam Siluia

Sil. What would you with her, if that I be she?
Iul. If you be she, I doe intreat your patience
To heare me speake the message I am sent on

Sil. From whom?
Iul. From my Master, Sir Protheus, Madam

Sil. Oh: he sends you for a Picture?
Iul. I, Madam

Sil. Vrsula, bring my Picture there, Goe, giue your Master this: tell him from me, One Iulia, that his changing thoughts forget Would better fit his Chamber, then this Shadow

Iul. Madam, please you peruse this Letter; Pardon me (Madam) I haue vnaduis'd Deliuer'd you a paper that I should not; This is the Letter to your Ladiship

Sil. I pray thee let me looke on that againe

Iul. It may not be: good Madam pardon me

Sil. There, hold: I will not looke vpon your Masters lines: I know they are stuft with protestations, And full of new-found oathes, which he will breake As easily, as I doe teare his paper

Iul. Madam, he sends your Ladiship this Ring

Sil. The more shame for him, that he sends it me; For I haue heard him say a thousand times, His Iulia gaue it him, at his departure: Though his false finger haue prophan'd the Ring, Mine shall not doe his Iulia so much wrong

Iul. She thankes you

Sil. What sai'st thou?
Iul. I thanke you Madam, that you tender her:
Poore Gentlewoman, my Master wrongs her much

Sil. Do'st thou know her?
Iul. Almost as well as I doe know my selfe.
To thinke vpon her woes, I doe protest
That I haue wept a hundred seuerall times

Sil. Belike she thinks that Protheus hath forsook her?
Iul. I thinke she doth: and that's her cause of sorrow