ACT III SCENE I | Milan. 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 THURIO] |
| Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me? |
PROTEUS | 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. |
PROTEUS | 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. |
PROTEUS | Adieu, my Lord; Sir Valentine is coming. | 50 |
[Exit] |
[Enter VALENTINE] |
DUKE | Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? |
VALENTINE | 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 |
VALENTINE | The tenor 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.
|
VALENTINE | 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. |
VALENTINE | 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. |
VALENTINE | 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. |
VALENTINE | A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her. |
| Send her another; never give her o'er; |
| For scorn at first makes after-love the more. | 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. |
VALENTINE | 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. |
VALENTINE | 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. |
VALENTINE | 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. |
VALENTINE | 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 |
VALENTINE | 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? |
VALENTINE | 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? |
VALENTINE | Ay, my good lord. |
DUKE | Then let me see thy cloak: |
| I'll get me one of such another length. |
VALENTINE | Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord. | 135 |
DUKE | How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak? |
| I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me. |
| What letter is this same? What's here? 'To Silvia'! |
| And here an engine fit for my proceeding. |
| I'll be so bold to break the seal for once. | 140 |
[Reads] |
| 'My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly, |
| 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: | 145 |
| While I, their king, that hither them importune, |
| 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.' | 150 |
| What's here? |
| 'Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee.' |
| 'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose. |
| Why, Phaeton,--for thou art Merops' son,-- |
| Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car | 155 |
| And with thy daring folly burn the world? |
| 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, | 160 |
| Is privilege for thy departure hence: |
| 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 | 165 |
| Will give thee time to leave our royal court, |
| By heaven! my wrath shall far exceed the love |
| I ever bore my daughter or thyself. |
| Be gone! I will not hear thy vain excuse; |
| But, as thou lovest thy life, make speed from hence. | 170 |
[Exit] |
VALENTINE | And why not death rather than living torment? |
| 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? | 175 |
| What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by? |
| Unless it be to think that she is by |
| And feed upon the shadow of perfection |
| Except I be by Silvia in the night, |
| There is no music in the nightingale; | 180 |
| Unless I look on Silvia in the day, |
| There is no day for me to look upon; |
| She is my essence, and I leave to be, |
| If I be not by her fair influence |
| Foster'd, illumined, cherish'd, kept alive. | 185 |
| I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom: |
| Tarry I here, I but attend on death: |
| But, fly I hence, I fly away from life. |
[Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE] |
PROTEUS | Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out. |
LAUNCE | Soho, soho! | 190 |
PROTEUS | What seest thou? |
LAUNCE | Him we go to find: there's not a hair on's head |
| but 'tis a Valentine. |
PROTEUS | Valentine? |
VALENTINE | No. | 195 |
PROTEUS | Who then? his spirit? |
VALENTINE | Neither. |
PROTEUS | What then? |
VALENTINE | Nothing. |
LAUNCE | Can nothing speak? Master, shall I strike? | 200 |
PROTEUS | Who wouldst thou strike? |
LAUNCE | Nothing. |
PROTEUS | Villain, forbear. |
LAUNCE | Why, sir, I'll strike nothing: I pray you,-- |
PROTEUS | Sirrah, I say, forbear. Friend Valentine, a word. | 205 |
VALENTINE | My ears are stopt and cannot hear good news, |
| So much of bad already hath possess'd them. |
PROTEUS | Then in dumb silence will I bury mine, |
| For they are harsh, untuneable and bad. |
VALENTINE | Is Silvia dead? | 210 |
PROTEUS | No, Valentine. |
VALENTINE | No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia. |
| Hath she forsworn me? |
PROTEUS | No, Valentine. |
VALENTINE | No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me. | 215 |
| What is your news? |
LAUNCE | Sir, there is a proclamation that you are vanished. |
PROTEUS | That thou art banished--O, that's the news!-- |
| From hence, from Silvia and from me thy friend. |
VALENTINE | O, I have fed upon this woe already, | 220 |
| And now excess of it will make me surfeit. |
| Doth Silvia know that I am banished? |
PROTEUS | 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: | 225 |
| Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd; |
| 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, | 230 |
| Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears, |
| Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire; |
| But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die. |
| Besides, her intercession chafed him so, |
| When she for thy repeal was suppliant, | 235 |
| That to close prison he commanded her, |
| With many bitter threats of biding there. |
VALENTINE | 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, | 240 |
| As ending anthem of my endless dolour. |
PROTEUS | 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; | 245 |
| Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life. |
| Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that |
| And manage it against despairing thoughts. |
| Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence; |
| Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver'd | 250 |
| Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love. |
| The time now serves not to expostulate: |
| Come, I'll convey thee through the city-gate; |
| And, ere I part with thee, confer at large |
| Of all that may concern thy love-affairs. | 255 |
| As thou lovest Silvia, though not for thyself, |
| Regard thy danger, and along with me! |
VALENTINE | I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy, |
| Bid him make haste and meet me at the North-gate. |
PROTEUS | Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine. | 260 |
VALENTINE | O my dear Silvia! Hapless Valentine! |
[Exeunt VALENTINE and PROTEUS] |
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 | 265 |
| team of horse shall not pluck that from me; nor who |
| 'tis I love; and yet 'tis a woman; but what woman, I |
| will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a 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 | 270 |
| wages. She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel; |
| which is much in a bare Christian. |
[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 | 275 |
| carry; therefore is she better than a jade. 'Item: |
| She can milk;' look you, a sweet virtue in a maid |
| with clean hands. |
[Enter SPEED] |
SPEED | How now, Signior Launce! what news with your |
| mastership? | 280 |
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? |
LAUNCE | The blackest news that ever thou heardest. |
SPEED | Why, man, how black? | 285 |
LAUNCE | Why, as black as ink. |
SPEED | Let me read them. |
LAUNCE | Fie on thee, jolt-head! thou canst not read. |
SPEED | Thou liest; I can. |
LAUNCE | I will try thee. Tell me this: who begot thee? | 290 |
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. |
SPEED | Come, fool, come; try me in thy paper. |
LAUNCE | There; and St. Nicholas be thy speed! | 295 |
SPEED | [Reads] 'Imprimis: She can milk.'
|
LAUNCE | Ay, that she can. |
SPEED | 'Item: She brews good ale.' |
LAUNCE | And thereof comes the proverb: 'Blessing of your |
| heart, you brew good ale.' | 300 |
SPEED | 'Item: She can sew.' |
LAUNCE | That's as much as to say, Can she so? |
SPEED | 'Item: She can knit.' |
LAUNCE | What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when |
| she can knit him a stock? | 305 |
SPEED | 'Item: She can wash and scour.' |
LAUNCE | A special virtue: for then she need not be washed |
| and scoured. |
SPEED | 'Item: She can spin.' |
LAUNCE | Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can | 310 |
| spin for her living. |
SPEED | 'Item: She hath many nameless virtues.' |
LAUNCE | That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, |
| indeed, know not their fathers and therefore have no names. |
SPEED | 'Here follow her vices.' | 315 |
LAUNCE | Close at the heels of her virtues. |
SPEED | 'Item: She is not to be kissed fasting in respect |
| of her breath.' |
LAUNCE | Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast. Read on. |
SPEED | 'Item: She hath a sweet mouth.' | 320 |
LAUNCE | That makes amends for her sour breath. |
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! To | 325 |
| 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. |
SPEED | 'Item: She will often praise her liquor.' | 335 |
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 she |
| is slow of; of her purse she shall not, for that | 340 |
| 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.' |
LAUNCE | Stop there; I'll have her: she was mine, and not | 345 |
| 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. The |
| cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it | 350 |
| 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] |
LAUNCE | Now will he be swinged for reading my letter; an | 370 |
| unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into |
| secrets! I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction. |
[Exit] |