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, 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 conSend her another; never give her o'er; [tents her: For scorn at first makes after-love the more. 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; 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.

Duke. But she, I mean, is promis'd 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. Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock'd, and keys kept That no man hath recourse to her by night. [safe,

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 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.

Duke. Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood, Advise me where I may have such a ladder. [that. Val. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell me Duke. This very night; for love is like a child, That longs for every thing that he can come by.

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.

[turn.

Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the Val. Ay, my good lord.

Duke. Then let me see thy cloak: I'll get me one of such another length.

[Reads.

Val. Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord. 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. 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: While I, their king, that thither 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, [be. That they should harbour where their lord should 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,
And with thy daring folly burn the world?
Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee?
Go, base intruder! over-weening slave!
Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates :
And think, my patience, more than thy desert,
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

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 lov'st thy life, make speed from hence.
[Exit Duke.
Val. And why not death, rather than living tor-
To die, is to be banish'd from myself; {ment?
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?
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,
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, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive.
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.

Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out.
Laun. So-ho! so-ho!

Pro. What seest thou?

Val. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me !What is your news? [vanish'd. Laun. Sir, there's a proclamation that you are Pro. That thou art banished, O, that's the news; Frem 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. Doth Silvia know that I am banished?

Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom, (Which, unrevers'd, stands in effectual force,) A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears. 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 As if but now they waxed pale for woe; [them, But neither bended knees, pure hands held up, 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 chaf'd him so, When she for thy repeal was suppliant, That to close prison he commanded her, 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,

ray thee, breathe it in mine ear,

As ending anthem of my endless dolour.

Pro. Cease to lament for that thou can'st 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. 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. 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 lov'st Silvia, though not for thyself, Regard thy danger, and along with me.

Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thon 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!

[Exeunt Valentine and Proteus.

Laun. I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to think, my master is a kind of kuave: 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 'tis a woman: but that 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. Here is the cat-log (Pulling out a paper) of her conditions. 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.

Enter SPEED.

Speed. How now, signior Launce? what news with your mastership?

Laun. 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

Laun. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st
Speed. Why, man, how black?
Laun. Why, as black as ink.
Speed. Let me read them.

Laun. Fye on thee, jolt-head; thou canst not read.
Speed. Thou liest, I can.

[thee? Laun. I will try thee: tell me this: who begot Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather. Laun. 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. Laun. There; and St. Nicholas be thy speed! Speed. Imprimis, She can milk. Laun. Ay, that she can.

Speed. Item, She brews good ale.

Laun. And thereof comes the proverb,-Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale.

Speed. Item, She can sew.

Laun. That's as much as to say, Can she so?
Speed. Item, She can knit.

Laun. 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.

Speed. Item, She is not to be kissed fasting, in respect of her breath.

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

Speed. Item, She hath a sweet mouth.

Laun. That makes amends for her sour breath. Speed. Item, She doth talk in her sleep. Laun. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk.

Speed. Item, She is slow in words.

Laun. O villain, that set this down among her vices! To be slow in words, is a woman's only virtue 1 pray thee, out with't; and place it for her chief virtue.

Speed. Item, She is proud.
Laun. Out with that too;

and cannot be ta'en from her.

was Eve's legacy,

Speed. Item, She hath no teeth.

[crusts.

Laun. I care not for that neither, because I love Speed. Item, She is curst.

Laun. Well; the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. Speed. She will often praise her liquor. Laun. If her liquor be good, she shail: if she will not, I will; for good things should be praised Speed. Item, She is too liberal.

Laun. Of her tongue she cannot; for that's writ down she is slow of: of her purse she shall not; for that I'll keep shut: now of another thing she may; and that I cannot help. Well, proceed.

Speed. Item. She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.

Laun. 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,

Laun. More hair than wit,-it may be; I'll prove it: 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,-
Laun. That's monstrous: O, that that were out!
Speed. And more wealth than faults.

Laun. 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?

Laun. Why, then I will tell thee,-that thy master stays for thee at the north gate. Speed. For me?

Laun. For thee? ay; who art thou? he hath staid for a better man than thee.

Speed. And must I go to him?

Laun. Thou must run to him, for thou hast staid so long, that going will scarce serve the turn. Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner? 'pox of your love-letters! [Exit.

Laun. 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.

Speed. Item, She can spin.

Laun. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living.

Speed. Item, She hath many nameless virtues. Laun. 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.

Laun. Close at the heels of her virtues.

[you,

Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure Trench'd 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.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

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, 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 How she opposes her against my will.

Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here. Duke. Ay, and perversely she persévers so. What might we do, to make the girl forget The love of Valentine, and love sir Thurio?

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:

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 loth to do: "Tis an ill office for a gentleman; Especially, against his very friend.

[him,

Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage Your slander never can endamage him; Therefore the office is indifferent, Being entreated to it by your friend.

Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord if I can do it, By aught 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.

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.

[kind;

Duke. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this 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, 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.

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.
Duke. Ay, much 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
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
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
Will well become such sweet complaining grievance.
This, or else nothing, will inherit her.

[love.
Duke. This discipline shows thou hast been in
Thu. And thy advice this night I'll put in practice:
Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver,
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.

Pro. We'll wait upon your grace till after supper:

I Out. Fellows, stand fast; I see a passenger. 2 Out. If there be ten, shrink not, but down with 'em.

Enter VALENTINE and Speed.

3 Out. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about you;

If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you.

Speed. Sir, we are undone! these are the villains That all the travellers do fear so much. Val. My friends,

Out. That's not so, sir; we are your enemies. 2 Out. Peace; we'll hear him.

Out. Ay, by my beard, will we;

For he's a proper man.

Val. Then know, that I have little wealth to lose; A man I am, crossed 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. 2 Out. Whither travel you?

Val. To Verona.

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

[staid,

3 Out. Have you long sojourn'd there? Val. Some sixteen months; and longer might have 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 kill'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, ne'er repent it, if it were done so : But were you banish'd for so small a fault?

Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doom. 1 Out. Have you the tongues?

Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy; Or else I often had been miserable.

3 Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar, This fellow were a king for our wild faction. 1 Out. We'll have him; sirs, a word. Speed.

Master, be one of them; It is an honourable kind of thievery. Val. Peace, villain!

2 Out. Tell us this: have you any thing to take to? Val. Nothing, but my fortune.

3 Out. Know then, that some of us are gentlemen, Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth 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.

2 Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Whom, in my mood, I stabb'd unto 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 lawless lives,) And, partly, seeing you are beautified With goodly shape; and by your own report A linguist; and a man of such perfection, As we do in our quality much want;

2 Out. Indeed, because you are a banish'd man, Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you: Are you content to be our general? To make a virtue of necessity, And live, as we do, in this wilderness?

[consort?

3 Out. What say'st thou? wilt thou be of our Say, ay, and be the captain of us all: We'll do thee homage, and be rul'd by thee, Love thee as our commander, and our king.

1 Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest