ACT III 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. |
THURIO | 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? |
PROTEUS | Gone, my good lord. |
DUKE | My daughter takes his going grievously. |
PROTEUS | 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. |
PROTEUS | 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. |
PROTEUS | I do, my lord. |
DUKE | And also, I think, thou art not ignorant | 25 |
| How she opposes her against my will |
PROTEUS | 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 |
PROTEUS | 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. |
PROTEUS | 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. |
PROTEUS | 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 |
PROTEUS | 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 |
THURIO | 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 |
PROTEUS | 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. |
PROTEUS | 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. |
THURIO | And thy advice this night I'll put in practise. |
| 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 |
PROTEUS | We'll wait upon your grace till after supper, |
| And afterward determine our proceedings. |
DUKE | Even now about it! I will pardon you. |
[Exeunt] |