The Two Gentlemen of Verona

William Shakespeare

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  • The Two Gentlemen of Verona
  • The Two Gentlemen of Verona

    Actus primus, Scena prima.


    Valentine: Protheus, and Speed.


      Valentine. Cease to perswade, my louing Protheus;
    Home-keeping youth, haue euer homely wits,
    Wer't not affection chaines thy tender dayes
    To the sweet glaunces of thy honour'd Loue,
    I rather would entreat thy company,
    To see the wonders of the world abroad,
    Then (liuing dully sluggardiz'd at home)
    Weare out thy youth with shapelesse idlenesse.
    But since thou lou'st; loue still, and thriue therein,
    Euen as I would, when I to loue begin


       Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine adew,
    Thinke on thy Protheus, when thou (hap'ly) seest
    Some rare note-worthy obiect in thy trauaile.
    Wish me partaker in thy happinesse,
    When thou do'st meet good hap; and in thy danger,
    (If euer danger doe enuiron thee)
    Commend thy grieuance to my holy prayers,
    For I will be thy beades-man, Valentine


       Val. And on a loue-booke pray for my successe?


      Pro. Vpon some booke I loue, I'le pray for thee


       Val. That's on some shallow Storie of deepe loue,
    How yong Leander crost the Hellespont


       Pro. That's a deepe Storie, of a deeper loue,
    For he was more then ouer-shooes in loue


       Val. 'Tis true; for you are ouer-bootes in loue,
    And yet you neuer swom the Hellespont


       Pro. Ouer the Bootes? nay giue me not the Boots


       Val. No, I will not; for it boots thee not


       Pro. What?


      Val. To be in loue; where scorne is bought with grones:
    Coy looks, with hart-sore sighes: one fading moments mirth,
    With twenty watchfull, weary, tedious nights;
    If hap'ly won, perhaps a haplesse gaine;
    If lost, why then a grieuous labour won;
    How euer: but a folly bought with wit,
    Or else a wit, by folly vanquished


       Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me foole


       Val. So, by your circumstance, I feare you'll proue


       Pro. 'Tis Loue you cauill at, I am not Loue


       Val. Loue is your master, for he masters you;
    And he that is so yoked by a foole,
    Me thinkes should not be chronicled for wise


       Pro. Yet Writers say; as in the sweetest Bud,
    The eating Canker dwels; so eating Loue
    Inhabits in the finest wits of all


       Val. And Writers say; as the most forward Bud
    Is eaten by the Canker ere it blow,
    Euen so by Loue, the yong, and tender wit
    Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the Bud,
    Loosing his verdure, euen in the prime,
    And all the faire effects of future hopes.
    But wherefore waste I time to counsaile thee
    That art a votary to fond desire?
    Once more adieu: my Father at the Road
    Expects my comming, there to see me ship'd


       Pro. And thither will I bring thee Valentine


       Val. Sweet Protheus, no: Now let vs take our leaue:
    To Millaine let me heare from thee by Letters
    Of thy successe in loue; and what newes else
    Betideth here in absence of thy Friend:
    And I likewise will visite thee with mine


       Pro. All happinesse bechance to thee in Millaine


       Val. As much to you at home: and so farewell.


    Enter


       Pro. He after Honour hunts, I after Loue;
    He leaues his friends, to dignifie them more;
    I loue my selfe, my friends, and all for loue:
    Thou Iulia, thou hast metamorphis'd me:
    Made me neglect my Studies, loose my time;
    Warre with good counsaile; set the world at nought;
    Made Wit with musing, weake; hart sick with thought


       Sp. Sir Protheus: 'saue you: saw you my Master?


      Pro. But now he parted hence to embarque for Millain


       Sp. Twenty to one then, he is ship'd already,
    And I haue plaid the Sheepe in loosing him


       Pro. Indeede a Sheepe doth very often stray,
    And if the Shepheard be awhile away


       Sp. You conclude that my Master is a Shepheard then,
    and I Sheepe?


      Pro. I doe


       Sp. Why then my hornes are his hornes, whether I
    wake or sleepe


       Pro. A silly answere, and fitting well a Sheepe


       Sp. This proues me still a Sheepe


       Pro. True: and thy Master a Shepheard


       Sp. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance


       Pro. It shall goe hard but ile proue it by another


       Sp. The Shepheard seekes the Sheepe, and not the
    Sheepe the Shepheard; but I seeke my Master, and my
    Master seekes not me: therefore I am no Sheepe


       Pro. The Sheepe for fodder follow the Shepheard,
    the Shepheard for foode followes not the Sheepe: thou
    for wages followest thy Master, thy Master for wages
    followes not thee: therefore thou art a Sheepe


       Sp. Such another proofe will make me cry baa


       Pro. But do'st thou heare: gau'st thou my Letter
    to Iulia?


      Sp. I Sir: I (a lost-Mutton) gaue your Letter to her
    (a lac'd-Mutton) and she (a lac'd-Mutton) gaue mee (a
    lost-Mutton) nothing for my labour


       Pro. Here's too small a Pasture for such store of
    Muttons


       Sp. If the ground be ouer-charg'd, you were best
    sticke her


       Pro. Nay, in that you are astray: 'twere best pound
    you


       Sp. Nay Sir, lesse then a pound shall serue me for carrying
    your Letter


       Pro. You mistake; I meane the pound, a Pinfold


       Sp. From a pound to a pin? fold it ouer and ouer,
    'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your louer


      Pro. But what said she?


      Sp. I


       Pro. Nod-I, why that's noddy


       Sp. You mistooke Sir: I say she did nod;
    And you aske me if she did nod, and I say I


       Pro. And that set together is noddy


       Sp. Now you haue taken the paines to set it together,
    take it for your paines


       Pro. No, no, you shall haue it for bearing the letter


       Sp. Well, I perceiue I must be faine to beare with you


       Pro. Why Sir, how doe you beare with me?


      Sp. Marry Sir, the letter very orderly,
    Hauing nothing but the word noddy for my paines


       Pro. Beshrew me, but you haue a quicke wit


       Sp. And yet it cannot ouer-take your slow purse


       Pro. Come, come, open the matter in briefe; what
    said she


       Sp. Open your purse, that the money, and the matter
    may be both at once deliuered


       Pro. Well Sir: here is for your paines: what said she?


      Sp. Truely Sir, I thinke you'll hardly win her


       Pro. Why? could'st thou perceiue so much from her?


      Sp. Sir, I could perceiue nothing at all from her;
    No, not so much as a ducket for deliuering your letter:
    And being so hard to me, that brought your minde;
    I feare she'll proue as hard to you in telling your minde.
    Giue her no token but stones, for she's as hard as steele


       Pro. What said she, nothing?


      Sp. No, not so much as take this for thy pains:
    To testifie your bounty, I thank you, you haue cestern'd me;
    In requital whereof, henceforth, carry your letters your
    selfe; And so Sir, I'le commend you to my Master


       Pro. Go, go, be gone, to saue your Ship from wrack,
    Which cannot perish hauing thee aboarde,
    Being destin'd to a drier death on shore:
    I must goe send some better Messenger,
    I feare my Iulia would not daigne my lines,
    Receiuing them from such a worthlesse post.


    Enter.



    Scoena Secunda.


    Enter Iulia and Lucetta.


      Iul. But say Lucetta (now we are alone)
    Would'st thou then counsaile me to fall in loue?


      Luc. I Madam, so you stumble not vnheedfully


       Iul. Of all the faire resort of Gentlemen,
    That euery day with par'le encounter me,
    In thy opinion which is worthiest loue?


      Lu. Please you repeat their names, ile shew my minde,
    According to my shallow simple skill


       Iu. What thinkst thou of the faire sir Eglamoure?
      Lu. As of a Knight, well-spoken, neat, and fine;
    But were I you, he neuer should be mine


       Iu. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio?
      Lu. Well of his wealth; but of himselfe, so, so


       Iu. What think'st thou of the gentle Protheus?
      Lu. Lord, Lord: to see what folly raignes in vs


       Iu. How now? what meanes this passion at his name?
      Lu. Pardon deare Madam, 'tis a passing shame,
    That I (vnworthy body as I am)
    Should censure thus on louely Gentlemen


       Iu. Why not on Protheus, as of all the rest?
      Lu. Then thus: of many good, I thinke him best


       Iul. Your reason?
      Lu. I haue no other but a womans reason:
    I thinke him so, because I thinke him so


       Iul. And would'st thou haue me cast my loue on him?
      Lu. I: if you thought your loue not cast away


       Iul. Why he, of all the rest, hath neuer mou'd me


       Lu. Yet he, of all the rest, I thinke best loues ye


       Iul. His little speaking, shewes his loue but small


       Lu. Fire that's closest kept, burnes most of all


       Iul. They doe not loue, that doe not shew their loue


       Lu. Oh, they loue least, that let men know their loue


       Iul. I would I knew his minde


       Lu. Peruse this paper Madam


       Iul. To Iulia: say, from whom?
      Lu. That the Contents will shew


       Iul. Say, say: who gaue it thee?
      Lu. Sir Valentines page: &sent I think from Protheus;
    He would haue giuen it you, but I being in the way,
    Did in your name receiue it: pardon the fault I pray


       Iul. Now (by my modesty) a goodly Broker:
    Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines?
    To whisper, and conspire against my youth?
    Now trust me, 'tis an office of great worth,
    And you an officer fit for the place:
    There: take the paper: see it be return'd,
    Or else returne no more into my sight


       Lu. To plead for loue, deserues more fee, then hate


       Iul. Will ye be gon?
      Lu. That you may ruminate.


    Enter.


      Iul. And yet I would I had ore-look'd the Letter;
    It were a shame to call her backe againe,
    And pray her to a fault, for which I chid her.
    What 'foole is she, that knowes I am a Maid,
    And would not force the letter to my view?
    Since Maides, in modesty, say no, to that,
    Which they would haue the profferer construe, I.
    Fie, fie: how way-ward is this foolish loue;
    That (like a testie Babe) will scratch the Nurse,
    And presently, all humbled kisse the Rod?
    How churlishly, I chid Lucetta hence,
    When willingly, I would haue had her here?
    How angerly I taught my brow to frowne,
    When inward ioy enforc'd my heart to smile?
    My pennance is, to call Lucetta backe
    And aske remission, for my folly past.
    What hoe: Lucetta


       Lu. What would your Ladiship?
      Iul. Is't neere dinner time?
      Lu. I would it were,
    That you might kill your stomacke on your meat,
    And not vpon your Maid


       Iu. What is't that you
    Tooke vp so gingerly?
      Lu. Nothing


       Iu. Why didst thou stoope then?
      Lu. To take a paper vp, that I let fall


       Iul. And is that paper nothing?
      Lu. Nothing concerning me


       Iul. Then let it lye, for those that it concernes


       Lu. Madam, it will not lye where it concernes,
    Vnlesse it haue a false Interpreter


       Iul. Some loue of yours, hath writ to you in Rime


       Lu. That I might sing it (Madam) to a tune:
    Giue me a Note, your Ladiship can set
      Iul. As little by such toyes, as may be possible:
    Best sing it to the tune of Light O, Loue


       Lu. It is too heauy for so light a tune


       Iu. Heauy? belike it hath some burden then?
      Lu. I: and melodious were it, would you sing it,
      Iu. And why not you?
      Lu. I cannot reach so high


       Iu. Let's see your Song:
    How now Minion?
      Lu. Keepe tune there still; so you will sing it out:
    And yet me thinkes I do not like this tune


       Iu. You doe not?
      Lu. No (Madam) tis too sharpe


       Iu. You (Minion) are too saucie


       Lu. Nay, now you are too flat;
    And marre the concord, with too harsh a descant:
    There wanteth but a Meane to fill your Song


       Iu. The meane is dround with you vnruly base


       Lu. Indeede I bid the base for Protheus


       Iu. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me;
    Here is a coile with protestation:
    Goe, get you gone: and let the papers lye:
    You would be fingring them, to anger me


       Lu. She makes it stra[n]ge, but she would be best pleas'd
    To be so angred with another Letter


       Iu. Nay, would I were so angred with the same:
    Oh hatefull hands, to teare such louing words;
    Iniurious Waspes, to feede on such sweet hony,
    And kill the Bees that yeelde it, with your stings;
    Ile kisse each seuerall paper, for amends:
    Looke, here is writ, kinde Iulia: vnkinde Iulia,
    As in reuenge of thy ingratitude,
    I throw thy name against the bruzing-stones,
    Trampling contemptuously on thy disdaine.
    And here is writ, Loue wounded Protheus.
    Poore wounded name: my bosome, as a bed,
    Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd;
    And thus I search it with a soueraigne kisse.
    But twice, or thrice, was Protheus written downe:
    Be calme (good winde) blow not a word away,
    Till I haue found each letter, in the Letter,
    Except mine own name: That, some whirle-winde beare
    Vnto a ragged, fearefull, hanging Rocke,
    And throw it thence into the raging Sea.
    Loe, here in one line is his name twice writ:
    Poore forlorne Protheus, passionate Protheus:
    To the sweet Iulia: that ile teare away:
    And yet I will not, sith so prettily
    He couples it, to his complaining Names;
    Thus will I fold them, one vpon another;
    Now kisse, embrace, contend, doe what you will


       Lu. Madam: dinner is ready: and your father staies


       Iu. Well, let vs goe


       Lu. What, shall these papers lye, like Tel-tales here?
      Iu. If you respect them; best to take them vp


       Lu. Nay, I was taken vp, for laying them downe.
    Yet here they shall not lye, for catching cold


       Iu. I see you haue a months minde to them


       Lu. I (Madam) you may say what sights you see;
    I see things too, although you iudge I winke


       Iu. Come, come, wilt please you goe.


    Exeunt.



    Scoena Tertia.



    Enter Antonio and Panthino. Protheus.


      Ant. Tell me Panthino, what sad talke was that,
    Wherewith my brother held you in the Cloyster?
      Pan. 'Twas of his Nephew Protheus, your Sonne


       Ant. Why? what of him?
      Pan. He wondred that your Lordship
    Would suffer him, to spend his youth at home,
    While other men, of slender reputation
    Put forth their Sonnes, to seeke preferment out.
    Some to the warres, to try their fortune there;
    Some, to discouer Islands farre away:
    Some, to the studious Vniuersities;
    For any, or for all these exercises,
    He said, that Protheus, your sonne, was meet;
    And did request me, to importune you
    To let him spend his time no more at home;
    Which would be great impeachment to his age,
    In hauing knowne no trauaile in his youth


       Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that
    Whereon, this month I haue bin hamering.
    I haue consider'd well, his losse of time,
    And how he cannot be a perfect man,
    Not being tryed, and tutord in the world:
    Experience is by industry atchieu'd,
    And perfected by the swift course of time:
    Then tell me, whether were I best to send him?
      Pan. I thinke your Lordship is not ignorant
    How his companion, youthfull Valentine,
    Attends the Emperour in his royall Court


       Ant. I know it well


       Pan. 'Twere good, I thinke, your Lordship sent him
    (thither,
    There shall he practise Tilts, and Turnaments;
    Heare sweet discourse, conuerse with Noble-men,
    And be in eye of euery Exercise
    Worthy his youth, and noblenesse of birth


       Ant. I like thy counsaile: well hast thou aduis'd:
    And that thou maist perceiue how well I like it,
    The execution of it shall make knowne;
    Euen with the speediest expedition,
    I will dispatch him to the Emperors Court


       Pan. To morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso,
    With other Gentlemen of good esteeme
    Are iournying, to salute the Emperor,
    And to commend their seruice to his will


       Ant. Good company: with them shall Protheus go:
    And in good time: now will we breake with him


       Pro. Sweet Loue, sweet lines, sweet life,
    Here is her hand, the agent of her heart;
    Here is her oath for loue, her honors paune;
    O that our Fathers would applaud our loues
    To seale our happinesse with their consents


       Pro. Oh heauenly Iulia


       Ant. How now? What Letter are you reading there?
      Pro. May't please your Lordship, 'tis a word or two
    Of commendations sent from Valentine;
    Deliuer'd by a friend, that came from him


       Ant. Lend me the Letter: Let me see what newes


       Pro. There is no newes (my Lord) but that he writes
    How happily he liues, how well-belou'd,
    And daily graced by the Emperor;
    Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune


       Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish?
      Pro. As one relying on your Lordships will,
    And not depending on his friendly wish


       Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish:
    Muse not that I thus sodainly proceed;
    For what I will, I will, and there an end:
    I am resolu'd, that thou shalt spend some time
    With Valentinus, in the Emperors Court:
    What maintenance he from his friends receiues,
    Like exhibition thou shalt haue from me,
    To morrow be in readinesse, to goe,
    Excuse it not: for I am peremptory


       Pro. My Lord I cannot be so soone prouided,
    Please you deliberate a day or two


       Ant. Look what thou want'st shalbe sent after thee:
    No more of stay: to morrow thou must goe;
    Come on Panthino; you shall be imployd,
    To hasten on his Expedition


       Pro. Thus haue I shund the fire, for feare of burning,
    And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd.
    I fear'd to shew my Father Iulias Letter,
    Least he should take exceptions to my loue,
    And with the vantage of mine owne excuse
    Hath he excepted most against my loue.
    Oh, how this spring of loue resembleth
    The vncertaine glory of an Aprill day,
    Which now shewes all the beauty of the Sun,
    And by and by a clowd takes all away


       Pan. Sir Protheus, your Fathers call's for you,
    He is in hast, therefore I pray you go


       Pro. Why this it is: my heart accords thereto,
    And yet a thousand times it answer's no.


    Exeunt. Finis.


    Actus secundus: Scoena Prima.


    Enter Valentine, Speed, Siluia


       Speed. Sir, your Gloue


       Valen. Not mine: my Gloues are on


       Sp. Why then this may be yours: for this is but one


       Val. Ha? Let me see: I, giue it me, it's mine:
    Sweet Ornament, that deckes a thing diuine,
    Ah Siluia, Siluia


       Speed. Madam Siluia: Madam Siluia


       Val. How now Sirha?
      Speed. Shee is not within hearing Sir


       Val. Why sir, who bad you call her?
      Speed. Your worship sir, or else I mistooke


       Val. Well: you'll still be too forward


       Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow


       Val. Goe to, sir, tell me: do you know Madam Siluia?
      Speed. Shee that your worship loues?
      Val. Why, how know you that I am in loue?
      Speed. Marry by these speciall markes: first, you haue
    learn'd (like Sir Protheus) to wreath your Armes like a
    Male-content: to rellish a Loue-song, like a Robin-redbreast:
    to walke alone like one that had the pestilence:
    to sigh, like a Schoole-boy that had lost his A.B.C. to
    weep like a yong wench that had buried her Grandam:
    to fast, like one that takes diet: to watch, like one that
    feares robbing: to speake puling, like a beggar at Hallow-Masse:
    You were wont, when you laughed, to crow
    like a cocke; when you walk'd, to walke like one of the
    Lions: when you fasted, it was presently after dinner:
    when you look'd sadly, it was for want of money: And
    now you are Metamorphis'd with a Mistris, that when I
    looke on you, I can hardly thinke you my Master


       Val. Are all these things perceiu'd in me?
      Speed. They are all perceiu'd without ye


       Val. Without me? they cannot


       Speed. Without you? nay, that's certaine: for without
    you were so simple, none else would: but you are
    so without these follies, that these follies are within you,
    and shine through you like the water in an Vrinall: that
    not an eye that sees you, but is a Physician to comment
    on your Malady


       Val. But tell me: do'st thou know my Lady Siluia?
      Speed. Shee that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper?
      Val. Hast thou obseru'd that? euen she I meane


       Speed. Why sir, I know her not


       Val. Do'st thou know her by my gazing on her, and
    yet know'st her not?
      Speed. Is she not hard-fauour'd, sir?
      Val. Not so faire (boy) as well fauour'd


       Speed. Sir, I know that well enough


       Val. What dost thou know?
      Speed. That shee is not so faire, as (of you) well-fauourd?
      Val. I meane that her beauty is exquisite,
    But her fauour infinite


       Speed. That's because the one is painted, and the other
    out of all count


       Val. How painted? and how out of count?
      Speed. Marry sir, so painted to make her faire, that no
    man counts of her beauty


       Val. How esteem'st thou me? I account of her beauty


       Speed. You neuer saw her since she was deform'd


       Val. How long hath she beene deform'd?
      Speed. Euer since you lou'd her


       Val. I haue lou'd her euer since I saw her,
    And still I see her beautifull


       Speed. If you loue her, you cannot see her


       Val. Why?
      Speed. Because Loue is blinde: O that you had mine
    eyes, or your owne eyes had the lights they were wont
    to haue, when you chidde at Sir Protheus, for going vngarter'd


       Val. What should I see then?
      Speed. Your owne present folly, and her passing deformitie:
    for hee beeing in loue, could not see to garter
    his hose; and you, beeing in loue, cannot see to put on
    your hose


       Val. Belike (boy) then you are in loue, for last morning
    You could not see to wipe my shooes


       Speed. True sir: I was in loue with my bed, I thanke
    you, you swing'd me for my loue, which makes mee the
    bolder to chide you, for yours


       Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her


       Speed. I would you were set, so your affection would
    cease


       Val. Last night she enioyn'd me,
    To write some lines to one she loues


       Speed. And haue you?
      Val. I haue


       Speed. Are they not lamely writt?
      Val. No (Boy) but as well as I can do them:
    Peace, here she comes


       Speed. Oh excellent motion; oh exceeding Puppet:
    Now will he interpret to her


       Val. Madam &Mistres, a thousand good-morrows


       Speed. Oh, 'giue ye-good-ev'n: heer's a million of
    manners


       Sil. Sir Valentine, and seruant, to you two thousand


       Speed. He should giue her interest: &she giues it him


       Val. As you inioynd me; I haue writ your Letter
    Vnto the secret, nameles friend of yours:
    Which I was much vnwilling to proceed in,
    But for my duty to your Ladiship


       Sil. I thanke you (gentle Seruant) 'tis very Clerklydone


       Val. Now trust me (Madam) it came hardly-off:
    For being ignorant to whom it goes,
    I writ at randome, very doubtfully


       Sil. Perchance you think too much of so much pains?
      Val. No (Madam) so it steed you, I will write
    (Please you command) a thousand times as much:
    And yet -
      Sil. A pretty period: well: I ghesse the sequell;
    And yet I will not name it: and yet I care not.
    And yet, take this againe: and yet I thanke you:
    Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more


       Speed. And yet you will: and yet, another yet


       Val. What meanes your Ladiship?
    Doe you not like it?
      Sil. Yes, yes: the lines are very queintly writ,
    But (since vnwillingly) take them againe.
    Nay, take them


       Val. Madam, they are for you


       Silu. I, I: you writ them Sir, at my request,
    But I will none of them: they are for you:
    I would haue had them writ more mouingly:
      Val. Please you, Ile write your Ladiship another


       Sil. And when it's writ: for my sake read it ouer,
    And if it please you, so: if not: why so:
      Val. If it please me, (Madam?) what then?
      Sil. Why if it please you, take it for your labour;
    And so good-morrow Seruant.


    Exit. Sil.


      Speed. Oh Iest vnseene: inscrutible: inuisible,
    As a nose on a mans face, or a Wethercocke on a steeple:
    My Master sues to her: and she hath taught her Sutor,
    He being her Pupill, to become her Tutor.
    Oh excellent deuise, was there euer heard a better?
    That my master being scribe,
    To himselfe should write the Letter?
      Val. How now Sir?
    What are you reasoning with your selfe?
      Speed. Nay: I was riming: 'tis you y haue the reason


       Val. To doe what?
      Speed. To be a Spokes-man from Madam Siluia


       Val. To whom?
      Speed. To your selfe: why, she woes you by a figure


       Val. What figure?
      Speed. By a Letter, I should say


       Val. Why she hath not writ to me?
      Speed. What need she,
    When shee hath made you write to your selfe?
    Why, doe you not perceiue the iest?
      Val. No, beleeue me


       Speed. No beleeuing you indeed sir:
    But did you perceiue her earnest?
      Val. She gaue me none, except an angry word


       Speed. Why she hath giuen you a Letter


       Val. That's the Letter I writ to her friend


       Speed. And y letter hath she deliuer'd, &there an end


       Val. I would it were no worse


       Speed. Ile warrant you, 'tis as well:
    For often haue you writ to her: and she in modesty,
    Or else for want of idle time, could not againe reply,
    Or fearing els some messe[n]ger, y might her mind discouer
    Her self hath taught her Loue himself, to write vnto her louer.
    All this I speak in print, for in print I found it.
    Why muse you sir, 'tis dinner time


       Val. I haue dyn'd


       Speed. I, but hearken sir: though the Cameleon Loue
    can feed on the ayre, I am one that am nourish'd by my
    victuals; and would faine haue meate: oh bee not like
    your Mistresse, be moued, be moued.


    Exeunt.



    Scoena secunda.


    Enter Protheus, Iulia, Panthion.


      Pro. Haue patience, gentle Iulia:
      Iul. I must where is no remedy


       Pro. When possibly I can, I will returne


       Iul. If you turne not: you will return the sooner:
    Keepe this remembrance for thy Iulia's sake


       Pro. Why then wee'll make exchange;
    Here, take you this


       Iul. And seale the bargaine with a holy kisse


       Pro. Here is my hand, for my true constancie:
    And when that howre ore-slips me in the day,
    Wherein I sigh not (Iulia) for thy sake,
    The next ensuing howre, some foule mischance
    Torment me for my Loues forgetfulnesse:
    My father staies my comming: answere not:
    The tide is now; nay, not thy tide of teares,
    That tide will stay me longer then I should,
    Iulia, farewell: what, gon without a word?
    I, so true loue should doe: it cannot speake,
    For truth hath better deeds, then words to grace it


       Panth. Sir Protheus: you are staid for


       Pro. Goe: I come, I come:
    Alas, this parting strikes poore Louers dumbe.


    Exeunt.



    Scoena Tertia.


    Enter Launce, Panthion.


      Launce. Nay, 'twill bee this howre ere I haue done
    weeping: all the kinde of the Launces, haue this very
    fault: I haue receiu'd my proportion, like the prodigious
    Sonne, and am going with Sir Protheus to the Imperialls
    Court: I thinke Crab my dog, be the sowrest natured
    dogge that liues: My Mother weeping: my Father
    wayling: my Sister crying: our Maid howling: our
    Catte wringing her hands, and all our house in a great
    perplexitie, yet did not this cruell-hearted Curre shedde
    one teare: he is a stone, a very pibble stone, and has no
    more pitty in him then a dogge: a Iew would haue wept
    to haue seene our parting: why my Grandam hauing
    no eyes, looke you, wept her selfe blinde at my parting:
    nay, Ile shew you the manner of it. This shooe is my father:
    no, this left shooe is my father; no, no, this left
    shooe is my mother: nay, that cannot bee so neyther:
    yes; it is so, it is so: it hath the worser sole: this shooe
    with the hole in it, is my mother: and this my father:
    a veng'ance on't, there 'tis: Now sir, this staffe is my sister:
    for, looke you, she is as white as a lilly, and as
    small as a wand: this hat is Nan our maid: I am the
    dogge: no, the dogge is himselfe, and I am the dogge:
    oh, the dogge is me, and I am my selfe: I; so, so: now
    come I to my Father; Father, your blessing: now
    should not the shooe speake a word for weeping:
    now should I kisse my Father; well, hee weepes on:
    Now come I to my Mother: Oh that she could speake
    now, like a would-woman: well, I kisse her: why
    there 'tis; heere's my mothers breath vp and downe:
    Now come I to my sister; marke the moane she makes:
    now the dogge all this while sheds not a teare: nor
    speakes a word: but see how I lay the dust with my
    teares


       Panth. Launce, away, away: a Boord: thy Master is
    ship'd, and thou art to post after with oares; what's the
    matter? why weep'st thou man? away asse, you'l loose
    the Tide, if you tarry any longer


       Laun. It is no matter if the tide were lost, for it is the
    vnkindest Tide, that euer any man tide


       Panth. What's the vnkindest tide?
      Lau. Why, he that's tide here, Crab my dog


       Pant. Tut, man: I meane thou'lt loose the flood, and
    in loosing the flood, loose thy voyage, and in loosing thy
    voyage, loose thy Master, and in loosing thy Master,
    loose thy seruice, and in loosing thy seruice: - why
    dost thou stop my mouth?
      Laun. For feare thou shouldst loose thy tongue


       Panth. Where should I loose my tongue?
      Laun. In thy Tale


       Panth. In thy Taile


       Laun. Loose the Tide, and the voyage, and the Master,
    and the Seruice, and the tide: why man, if the Riuer
    were drie, I am able to fill it with my teares: if the winde
    were downe, I could driue the boate with my sighes


       Panth. Come: come away man, I was sent to call
    thee


       Lau. Sir: call me what thou dar'st


       Pant. Wilt thou goe?
      Laun. Well, I will goe.


    Exeunt.


    Scena Quarta.


    Enter Valentine, Siluia, Thurio, Speed, Duke, Protheus.


      Sil. Seruant


       Val. Mistris


       Spee. Master, Sir Thurio frownes on you


       Val. I Boy, it's for loue


       Spee. Not of you


       Val. Of my Mistresse then


       Spee. 'Twere good you knockt him


       Sil. Seruant, you are sad


       Val. Indeed, Madam, I seeme so


       Thu. Seeme you that you are not?
      Val. Hap'ly I doe


       Thu. So doe Counterfeyts


       Val. So doe you


       Thu. What seeme I that I am not?
      Val. Wise


       Thu. What instance of the contrary?
      Val. Your folly


       Thu. And how quoat you my folly?
      Val. I quoat it in your Ierkin


       Thu. My Ierkin is a doublet


       Val. Well then, Ile double your folly


       Thu. How?
      Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio, do you change colour?
      Val. Giue him leaue, Madam, he is a kind of Camelion


       Thu. That hath more minde to feed on your bloud,
    then liue in your ayre


       Val. You haue said Sir


       Thu. I Sir, and done too for this time


       Val. I know it wel sir, you alwaies end ere you begin


       Sil. A fine volly of words, gentleme[n], &quickly shot off
      Val. 'Tis indeed, Madam, we thank the giuer


       Sil. Who is that Seruant?
      Val. Your selfe (sweet Lady) for you gaue the fire,
    Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your Ladiships lookes,
    And spends what he borrowes kindly in your company


       Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall
    make your wit bankrupt


       Val. I know it well sir: you haue an Exchequer of words,
    And I thinke, no other treasure to giue your followers:
    For it appeares by their bare Liueries
    That they liue by your bare words


       Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more:
    Here comes my father


       Duk. Now, daughter Siluia, you are hard beset.
    Sir Valentine, your father is in good health,
    What say you to a Letter from your friends
    Of much good newes?
      Val. My Lord, I will be thankfull,
    To any happy messenger from thence


       Duk. Know ye Don Antonio, your Countriman?
      Val. I, my good Lord, I know the Gentleman
    To be of worth, and worthy estimation,
    And not without desert so well reputed


       Duk. Hath he not a Sonne?
      Val. I, my good Lord, a Son, that well deserues
    The honor, and regard of such a father


       Duk. You know him well?
      Val. I knew him as my selfe: for from our Infancie
    We haue conuerst, and spent our howres together,
    And though my selfe haue beene an idle Trewant,
    Omitting the sweet benefit of time
    To cloath mine age with Angel-like perfection:
    Yet hath Sir Protheus (for that's his name)
    Made vse, and faire aduantage of his daies:
    His yeares but yong, but his experience old:
    His head vn-mellowed, but his Iudgement ripe;
    And in a word (for far behinde his worth
    Comes all the praises that I now bestow.)
    He is compleat in feature, and in minde,
    With all good grace, to grace a Gentleman


       Duk. Beshrew me sir, but if he make this good
    He is as worthy for an Empresse loue,
    As meet to be an Emperors Councellor:
    Well, Sir: this Gentleman is come to me
    With Commendation from great Potentates,
    And heere he meanes to spend his time a while,
    I thinke 'tis no vn-welcome newes to you


       Val. Should I haue wish'd a thing, it had beene he


       Duk. Welcome him then according to his worth:
    Siluia, I speake to you, and you Sir Thurio,
    For Valentine, I need not cite him to it,
    I will send him hither to you presently


       Val. This is the Gentleman I told your Ladiship
    Had come along with me, but that his Mistresse
    Did hold his eyes, lockt in her Christall lookes


       Sil. Be-like that now she hath enfranchis'd them
    Vpon some other pawne for fealty


       Val. Nay sure, I thinke she holds them prisoners stil


       Sil. Nay then he should be blind, and being blind
    How could he see his way to seeke out you?
      Val. Why Lady, Loue hath twenty paire of eyes


       Thur. They say that Loue hath not an eye at all


       Val. To see such Louers, Thurio, as your selfe,
    Vpon a homely obiect, Loue can winke


       Sil. Haue done, haue done: here comes y gentleman


       Val. Welcome, deer Protheus: Mistris, I beseech you
    Confirme his welcome, with some speciall fauor


       Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hether,
    If this be he you oft haue wish'd to heare from


       Val. Mistris, it is: sweet Lady, entertaine him
    To be my fellow-seruant to your Ladiship


       Sil. Too low a Mistres for so high a seruant


       Pro. Not so, sweet Lady, but too meane a seruant
    To haue a looke of such a worthy a Mistresse


       Val. Leaue off discourse of disabilitie:
    Sweet Lady, entertaine him for your Seruant


       Pro. My dutie will I boast of, nothing else


       Sil. And dutie neuer yet did want his meed.
    Seruant, you are welcome to a worthlesse Mistresse


       Pro. Ile die on him that saies so but your selfe


       Sil. That you are welcome?
      Pro. That you are worthlesse


       Thur. Madam, my Lord your father wold speak with you


       Sil. I wait vpon his pleasure: Come Sir Thurio,
    Goe with me: once more, new Seruant welcome;
    Ile leaue you to confer of home affaires,
    When you haue done, we looke too heare from you


       Pro. Wee'll both attend vpon your Ladiship


       Val. Now tell me: how do al from whence you came?
      Pro. Your frends are wel, &haue the[m] much co[m]mended


       Val. And how doe yours?
      Pro. I left them all in health


       Val. How does your Lady? &how thriues your loue?
      Pro. My tales of Loue were wont to weary you,
    I know you ioy not in a Loue-discourse


       Val. I Protheus, but that life is alter'd now,
    I haue done pennance for contemning Loue,
    Whose high emperious thoughts haue punish'd me
    With bitter fasts, with penitentiall grones,
    With nightly teares, and daily hart-sore sighes,
    For in reuenge of my contempt of loue,
    Loue hath chas'd sleepe from my enthralled eyes,
    And made them watchers of mine owne hearts sorrow.
    O gentle Protheus, Loue's a mighty Lord,
    And hath so humbled me, as I confesse
    There is no woe to his correction,
    Nor to his Seruice, no such ioy on earth:
    Now, no discourse, except it be of loue:
    Now can I breake my fast, dine, sup, and sleepe,
    Vpon the very naked name of Loue


       Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye:
    Was this the Idoll, that you worship so?
      Val. Euen She; and is she not a heauenly Saint?
      Pro. No; But she is an earthly Paragon


       Val. Call her diuine


       Pro. I will not flatter her


       Val. O flatter me: for Loue delights in praises


       Pro. When I was sick, you gaue me bitter pils,
    And I must minister the like to you


       Val. Then speake the truth by her; if not diuine,
    Yet let her be a principalitie,
    Soueraigne to all the Creatures on the earth


       Pro. Except my Mistresse


       Val. Sweet: except not any,
    Except thou wilt except against my Loue


       Pro. Haue I not reason to prefer mine owne?
      Val. And I will help thee to prefer her to:
    Shee shall be dignified with this high honour,
    To beare my Ladies traine, lest the base earth
    Should from her vesture chance to steale a kisse,
    And of so great a fauor growing proud,
    Disdaine to roote the Sommer-swelling flowre,
    And make rough winter euerlastingly


       Pro. Why Valentine, what Bragadisme is this?
      Val. Pardon me (Protheus) all I can is nothing,
    To her, whose worth, make other worthies nothing;
    Shee is alone


       Pro. Then let her alone


       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


       Sil. Is she not passing faire?
      Iul. She hath bin fairer (Madam) then she is,
    When she did thinke my Master lou'd her well;
    She, in my iudgement, was as faire as you.
    But since she did neglect her looking-glasse,
    And threw her Sun-expelling Masque away,
    The ayre hath staru'd the roses in her cheekes,
    And pinch'd the lilly-tincture of her face,
    That now she is become as blacke as I


       Sil. How tall was she?
      Iul. About my stature: for at Pentecost,
    When all our Pageants of delight were plaid,
    Our youth got me to play the womans part,
    And I was trim'd in Madam Iulias gowne,
    Which serued me as fit, by all mens iudgements,
    As if the garment had bin made for me:
    Therefore I know she is about my height,
    And at that time I made her weepe a good,
    For I did play a lamentable part.
    (Madam) 'twas Ariadne, passioning
    For Thesus periury, and vniust flight;
    Which I so liuely acted with my teares:
    That my poore Mistris moued therewithall,
    Wept bitterly: and would I might be dead,
    If I in thought felt not her very sorrow


       Sil. She is beholding to thee (gentle youth)
    Alas (poore Lady) desolate, and left;
    I weepe my selfe to thinke vpon thy words:
    Here youth: there is my purse; I giue thee this
    For thy sweet Mistris sake, because thou lou'st her. Farewell


       Iul. And she shall thanke you for't, if ere you know her.
    A vertuous gentlewoman, milde, and beautifull.
    I hope my Masters suit will be but cold,
    Since she respects my Mistris loue so much.
    Alas, how loue can trifle with it selfe:
    Here is her Picture: let me see, I thinke
    If I had such a Tyre, this face of mine
    Were full as louely, as is this of hers;
    And yet the Painter flatter'd her a little,
    Vnlesse I flatter with my selfe too much.
    Her haire is Aburne, mine is perfect Yellow;
    If that be all the difference in his loue,
    Ile get me such a coulour'd Perrywig:
    Her eyes are grey as glasse, and so are mine.
    I, but her fore-head's low, and mine's as high:
    What should it be that he respects in her,
    But I can make respectiue in my selfe?
    If this fond Loue, were not a blinded god.
    Come shadow, come, and take this shadow vp,
    For 'tis thy riuall: O thou sencelesse forme,
    Thou shalt be worship'd, kiss'd, lou'd, and ador'd;
    And were there sence in his Idolatry,
    My substance should be statue in thy stead.
    Ile vse thee kindly, for thy Mistris sake
    That vs'd me so: or else by Ioue, I vow,
    I should haue scratch'd out your vnseeing eyes,
    To make my Master out of loue with thee.


    Exeunt.


    Actus Quintus. Scoena Prima.


    Enter Eglamoure, Siluia.


      Egl. The Sun begins to guild the westerne skie,
    And now it is about the very houre
    That Siluia, at Fryer Patricks Cell should meet me,
    She will not faile; for Louers breake not houres,
    Vnlesse it be to come before their time,
    So much they spur their expedition.
    See where she comes: Lady a happy euening


       Sil. Amen, Amen: goe on (good Eglamoure)
    Out at the Posterne by the Abbey wall;
    I feare I am attended by some Spies


       Egl. Feare not: the Forrest is not three leagues off,
    If we recouer that, we are sure enough.


    Exeunt.



    Scoena Secunda.


    Enter Thurio, Protheus, Iulia, Duke.


      Th. Sir Protheus, what saies Siluia to my suit?
      Pro. Oh Sir, I finde her milder then she was,
    And yet she takes exceptions at your person


       Thu. What? that my leg is too long?
      Pro. No, that it is too little


       Thu. Ile weare a Boote, to make it somewhat rounder


       Pro. But loue will not be spurd to what it loathes


       Thu. What saies she to my face?
      Pro. She saies it is a faire one


       Thu. Nay then the wanton lyes: my face is blacke


       Pro. But Pearles are faire; and the old saying is,
    Blacke men are Pearles, in beauteous Ladies eyes


       Thu. 'Tis true, such Pearles as put out Ladies eyes,
    For I had rather winke, then looke on them


       Thu. How likes she my discourse?
      Pro. Ill, when you talke of war


       Thu. But well, when I discourse of loue and peace


       Iul. But better indeede, when you hold you peace


       Thu. What sayes she to my valour?
      Pro. Oh Sir, she makes no doubt of that


       Iul. She needes not, when she knowes it cowardize


       Thu. What saies she to my birth?
      Pro. That you are well deriu'd


       Iul. True: from a Gentleman, to a foole


       Thu. Considers she my Possessions?
      Pro. Oh, I: and pitties them


       Thu. Wherefore?
      Iul. That such an Asse should owe them


       Pro. That they are out by Lease


       Iul. Here comes the Duke


       Du. How now sir Protheus; how now Thurio?
    Which of you saw Eglamoure of late?
      Thu. Not I


       Pro. Nor I


       Du. Saw you my daughter?
      Pro. Neither


       Du. Why then
    She's fled vnto that pezant, Valentine;
    And Eglamoure is in her Company:
    'Tis true: for Frier Laurence met them both
    As he, in pennance wander'd through the Forrest:
    Him he knew well: and guesd that it was she,
    But being mask'd, he was not sure of it.
    Besides she did intend Confession
    At Patricks Cell this euen, and there she was not.
    These likelihoods confirme her flight from hence;
    Therefore I pray you stand, not to discourse,
    But mount you presently, and meete with me
    Vpon the rising of the Mountaine foote
    That leads toward Mantua, whether they are fled:
    Dispatch (sweet Gentlemen) and follow me


       Thu. Why this it is, to be a peeuish Girle,
    That flies her fortune when it followes her:
    Ile after; more to be reueng'd on Eglamoure,
    Then for the loue of reck-lesse Siluia


       Pro. And I will follow, more for Siluias loue
    Then hate of Eglamoure that goes with her


       Iul. And I will follow, more to crosse that loue
    Then hate for Siluia, that is gone for loue.


    Exeunt.


    Scena Tertia.



    Siluia, Outlawes.


      1.Out. Come, come be patient:
    We must bring you to our Captaine


       Sil. A thousand more mischances then this one
    Haue learn'd me how to brooke this patiently


       2 Out. Come, bring her away


       1 Out. Where is the Gentleman that was with her?
      3 Out. Being nimble footed, he hath out-run vs.
    But Moyses and Valerius follow him:
    Goe thou with her to the West end of the wood,
    There is our Captaine: Wee'll follow him that's fled,
    The Thicket is beset, he cannot scape


       1 Out. Come, I must bring you to our Captains caue.
    Feare not: he beares an honourable minde,
    And will not vse a woman lawlesly


       Sil. O Valentine: this I endure for thee.


    Exeunt.



    Scoena Quarta.


    Enter Valentine, Protheus, Siluia, Iulia, Duke, Thurio, Outlawes.


      Val. How vse doth breed a habit in a man?
    This shadowy desart, vnfrequented woods
    I better brooke then flourishing peopled Townes:
    Here can I sit alone, vn-seene of any,
    And to the Nightingales complaining Notes
    Tune my distresses, and record my woes.
    O thou that dost inhabit in my brest,
    Leaue not the Mansion so long Tenant-lesse,
    Lest growing ruinous, the building fall,
    And leaue no memory of what it was,
    Repaire me, with thy presence, Siluia:
    Thou gentle Nimph, cherish thy forlorne swaine.
    What hallowing, and what stir is this to day?
    These are my mates, that make their wills their Law,
    Haue some vnhappy passenger in chace;
    They loue me well: yet I haue much to doe
    To keepe them from vnciuill outrages.
    Withdraw thee Valentine: who's this comes heere?
      Pro. Madam, this seruice I haue done for you
    (Though you respect not aught your seruant doth)
    To hazard life, and reskew you from him,
    That would haue forc'd your honour, and your loue,
    Vouchsafe me for my meed, but one faire looke:
    (A smaller boone then this I cannot beg,
    And lesse then this, I am sure you cannot giue.)
      Val. How like a dreame is this? I see, and heare:
    Loue, lend me patience to forbeare a while


       Sil. O miserable, vnhappy that I am


       Pro. Vnhappy were you (Madam) ere I came:
    But by my comming, I haue made you happy


       Sil. By thy approach thou mak'st me most vnhappy


       Iul. And me, when he approcheth to your presence


       Sil. Had I beene ceazed by a hungry Lion,
    I would haue beene a breakfast to the Beast,
    Rather then haue false Protheus reskue me:
    Oh heauen be iudge how I loue Valentine,
    Whose life's as tender to me as my soule,
    And full as much (for more there cannot be)
    I doe detest false periur'd Protheus:
    Therefore be gone, sollicit me no more


       Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to death
    Would I not vndergoe, for one calme looke:
    Oh 'tis the curse in Loue, and still approu'd
    When women cannot loue, where they're belou'd


       Sil. When Protheus cannot loue, where he's belou'd:
    Read ouer Iulia's heart, (thy first best Loue)
    For whose deare sake, thou didst then rend thy faith
    Into a thousand oathes; and all those oathes,
    Descended into periury, to loue me,
    Thou hast no faith left now, vnlesse thou'dst two,
    And that's farre worse then none: better haue none
    Then plurall faith, which is too much by one:
    Thou Counterfeyt, to thy true friend


       Pro. In Loue,
    Who respects friend?
      Sil. All men but Protheus


       Pro. Nay, if the gentle spirit of mouing words
    Can no way change you to a milder forme;
    Ile wooe you like a Souldier, at armes end,
    And loue you 'gainst the nature of Loue: force ye


       Sil. Oh heauen


       Pro. Ile force thee yeeld to my desire


       Val. Ruffian: let goe that rude vnciuill touch,
    Thou friend of an ill fashion


       Pro. Valentine


       Val. Thou co[m]mon friend, that's without faith or loue,
    For such is a friend now: treacherous man,
    Thou hast beguil'd my hopes; nought but mine eye
    Could haue perswaded me: now I dare not say
    I haue one friend aliue; thou wouldst disproue me:
    Who should be trusted, when ones right hand
    Is periured to the bosome? Protheus
    I am sorry I must neuer trust thee more,
    But count the world a stranger for thy sake:
    The priuate wound is deepest: oh time, most accurst.
    'Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst?
      Pro. My shame and guilt confounds me:
    Forgiue me Valentine: if hearty sorrow
    Be a sufficient Ransome for offence,
    I tender't heere: I doe as truely suffer,
    As ere I did commit


       Val. Then I am paid:
    And once againe, I doe receiue thee honest;
    Who by Repentance is not satisfied,
    Is nor of heauen, nor earth; for these are pleas'd:
    By Penitence th' Eternalls wrath's appeas'd:
    And that my loue may appeare plaine and free,
    All that was mine, in Siluia, I giue thee


       Iul. Oh me vnhappy


       Pro. Looke to the Boy


       Val. Why, Boy?
    Why wag: how now? what's the matter? look vp: speak


       Iul. O good sir, my master charg'd me to deliuer a ring
    to Madam Siluia: w (out of my neglect) was neuer done


       Pro. Where is that ring? boy?
      Iul. Heere 'tis: this is it


       Pro. How? let me see.
    Why this is the ring I gaue to Iulia


       Iul. Oh, cry you mercy sir, I haue mistooke:
    This is the ring you sent to Siluia


       Pro. But how cam'st thou by this ring? at my depart
    I gaue this vnto Iulia


       Iul. And Iulia her selfe did giue it me,
    And Iulia her selfe hath brought it hither


       Pro. How? Iulia?
      Iul. Behold her, that gaue ayme to all thy oathes,
    And entertain'd 'em deepely in her heart.
    How oft hast thou with periury cleft the roote?
    Oh Protheus, let this habit make thee blush.
    Be thou asham'd that I haue tooke vpon me,
    Such an immodest rayment; if shame liue
    In a disguise of loue?
    It is the lesser blot modesty findes,
    Women to change their shapes, then men their minds


       Pro. Then men their minds? tis true: oh heuen, were man
    But Constant, he were perfect; that one error
    Fils him with faults: makes him run through all th' sins;
    Inconstancy falls-off, ere it begins:
    What is in Siluia's face, but I may spie
    More fresh in Iulia's, with a constant eye?
      Val. Come, come: a hand from either:
    Let me be blest to make this happy close:
    'Twere pitty two such friends should be long foes


       Pro. Beare witnes (heauen) I haue my wish for euer


       Iul. And I mine


       Outl. A prize: a prize: a prize


       Val. Forbeare, forbeare I say: It is my Lord the Duke.
    Your Grace is welcome to a man disgrac'd,
    Banished Valentine


       Duke. Sir Valentine?
      Thu. Yonder is Siluia: and Siluia's mine


       Val. Thurio giue backe; or else embrace thy death:
    Come not within the measure of my wrath:
    Doe not name Siluia thine: if once againe,
    Verona shall not hold thee: heere she stands,
    Take but possession of her, with a Touch:
    I dare thee, but to breath vpon my Loue


       Thur. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I:
    I hold him but a foole that will endanger
    His Body, for a Girle that loues him not:
    I claime her not, and therefore she is thine


       Duke. The more degenerate and base art thou
    To make such meanes for her, as thou hast done,
    And leaue her on such slight conditions.
    Now, by the honor of my Ancestry,
    I doe applaud thy spirit, Valentine,
    And thinke thee worthy of an Empresse loue:
    Know then, I heere forget all former greefes,
    Cancell all grudge, repeale thee home againe,
    Plead a new state in thy vn-riual'd merit,
    To which I thus subscribe: Sir Valentine,
    Thou art a Gentleman, and well deriu'd,
    Take thou thy Siluia, for thou hast deseru'd her


       Val. I thank your Grace, y gift hath made me happy:
    I now beseech you (for your daughters sake)
    To grant one Boone that I shall aske of you


       Duke. I grant it (for thine owne) what ere it be


       Val. These banish'd men, that I haue kept withall,
    Are men endu'd with worthy qualities:
    Forgiue them what they haue committed here,
    And let them be recall'd from their Exile:
    They are reformed, ciuill, full of good,
    And fit for great employment (worthy Lord.)
      Duke. Thou hast preuaild, I pardon them and thee:
    Dispose of them, as thou knowst their deserts.
    Come, let vs goe, we will include all iarres,
    With Triumphes, Mirth, and rare solemnity


       Val. And as we walke along, I dare be bold
    With our discourse, to make your Grace to smile.
    What thinke you of this Page (my Lord?)
      Duke. I think the Boy hath grace in him, he blushes


       Val. I warrant you (my Lord) more grace, then Boy


       Duke. What meane you by that saying?
      Val. Please you, Ile tell you, as we passe along,
    That you will wonder what hath fortuned:
    Come Protheus, 'tis your pennance, but to heare
    The story of your Loues discouered.
    That done, our day of marriage shall be yours,
    One Feast, one house, one mutuall happinesse.


    Exeunt.



    The names of all the Actors.


    Duke: Father to Siluia.
    Valentine.
    Protheus. the two Gentlemen.
    Anthonio: father to Protheus.
    Thurio: a foolish riuall to Valentine.
    Eglamoure: Agent for Siluia in her escape.
    Host: where Iulia lodges.
    Outlawes with Valentine.
    Speed: a clownish seruant to Valentine.
    Launce: the like to Protheus.
    Panthion: seruant to Antonio.
    Iulia: beloued of Protheus.
    Siluia: beloued of Valentine.
    Lucetta: waighting-woman to Iulia.


    FINIS. THE Two Gentlemen of Verona.