Chapter 2

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