Chapter 3
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.