Valentine.
Cease to persuade, my loving Protheus;
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits;
Wer't not affection chains thy tender days
To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love,
I rather would intreat thy company
To see the wonders of the world abroad,
Than (living dully sluggardiz'd at home)
Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.
But since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein;
Ev'n as I would, when I to love begin.

Pro.
Wilt thou begone? Sweet Valentine, adieu;
Think on thy Protheus, when thou, haply seest
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:
Wish me partaker in thy happiness
When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger,
If ever danger do environ thee,
Commend thy grievance to my holy prayer;
For I will be thy beads-man, Valentine.

Val.
And on a love-book pray for my success.

Pro.
Ay, on some book I love, I'll pray for thee.

Val.
That's on some shallow story of deep love,
How young Leander swam the Hellespont.

Pro.
That's a deep story of a deeper love;
No, we will love, my friend, with more success;
For you are formed by nature for a lover.

Val.
O I shall never swim the Hellespont:
To be in love! where scorn is bought with groans;
Coy looks with heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth,
With twenty watchful tedious nights.
If haply won, perhaps an hapless gain:
If lost, why then a grievous labour won:
However but a folly bought with wit;
Or else a wit by folly vanquished.

Pro.
So by your circumstance you call me fool.

Val.
So, by your circumstance, I fear, you'll prove.

Pro.
'Tis love you cavil at; I am not love.

Val.
Love is your master; for he masters you.
And he that is so yoaked by a fool,
Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise.

Pro.
Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud
The eating canker dwells, so eating love
Inhabits in the finest wits of all.

Val.
And writers say, as the most forward bud
Is eaten by the canker ere it blow;
Even so by love the young and tender wit
Is turn'd to folly, blasting in the bud,
Losing his verdure even in the prime,
And all the fair effects of future hopes.
But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee,
That art a votary of fond desire?
Once more adieu: my father at the gates
Expects my coming, there to see me mount.

Pro.
And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.

Val.
Sweet Protheus, no: now let us take our leave.
At Milan let me hear from thee by letters
Of thy success in love; and what news else
Betideth here in absence of thy friend:
And I likewise will visit thee with mine.

Pro.
All happiness bechance to the at Milan.

Val.
As much to you at home; and so farewell. [Exit.

Pro.
He after honour hunts, I after love;
He leaves his friends to dignify them more;
I leave myself, my friends, and all for love.

Thou Julia! thou hast metamorphos'd me;
Made me neglect my studies, lose my time,
War with good counsel, set the world at nought,
Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought. Enter Speed.

Speed.
Sir Protheus, save you; saw you my master?

Pro.
But now he parted from me for Milan.

Speed.
Twenty to one then he sets off before me,
And I have play'd the sheep in losing him.

Pro.
Indeed a sheep doth very often stray,
And if the shepherd be a while away.

Speed.

You conclude my master is a shepherd then, and I a sheep.

Pro.

I do.

Speed.

Nay, sir, that I can deny by circumstance—

Pro.

It shall go hard but I'll prove it by another.

Speed.

The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and not my master me; therefore I am no sheep.

Pro.

The sheep for fodder follows the shepherd, as thou for wages followest thy master; therefore thou art a sheep.—

Speed.

Such another proof will make me cry baa—

Pro.

But dost thou hear? gavest thou my letter to Julia?

Speed.

No.

Pro.

No—why that was my request—and that you should deliver it to her with your own hand.

Speed.

Why sir, you did so;—but I gave it to one I liked better than madam Julia.

Pro.

Why, thou trifling villain, explain thyself!

Speed.

Why sir, chambermaids are like porches to your doors, you must pass the one, before you can have entrance to the other: so I gave your letter to your mistress's maid Lucetta, and told her it came from you—by which means I served myself as well as you; I got some kisses, which her lady would have been too proud to reward me with.

Pro.

Well; Lecetta is handsome, and I believe an honest girl.

Speed.

To say that a waiting-woman is handsome and yet chaste, is to affirm that the knight keeps to my lady in the high bed and never truckles. Ay, sir, they are like lotteries; a man may chuse twenty before he shall find one prize. And so, sir, if that's all I am to get, I'll commend you to my master.

Pro.
Go get thee gone, for an arch villain— [Exit.
The rogue has disappointed me—I sent my letter by him,
That Julia's family might turn their fears on Valentine. [Exit. Scene 2 SCENE, the hall of Anthonio's house. Enter Anthonio and Panthion.

Ant.
Tell me, Panthion—what grave talk was that
Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister?

Pant.
'Twas of his nephew Protheus, your son.

Ant.
Why, what of him?

Pant.
He wondered that your lordship
Would suffer him to spend his youth at home,
While other men of slender reputation
Put forth their sons to seek preferment out.
Some to the wars, to try their fortune there;
Some to discover Islands far away;
Some to the studious universities.
For any, or for all these exercises,
He said that Protheus, your son, 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 having known no travel in his youth.

Ant.
Nor need'st thou much importune me to that,
Whereon this month I have been hammering.
I have consider'd well his loss of time,
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being try'd and tutor'd in the world:
Experience is by industry atchiev'd,
And perfected by the swift course of time.
Then tell me, whither were I best to send him?

Pant.
I think your lordship is not ignorant
How his companion, youthful Valentine,
Is gone with letters to the duke of Milan.

Ant.
I know it well.

Pant.
'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither;
There shall he practice tilts and tournaments,
Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen,
And be in eye of every exercise,
Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.

Ant.
I like thy counsel; well hast thou advised:
And that thou may'st perceive how well I like it,
The execution of it shall make known;

Ev'n with the speediest expedition,
I will dispatch him to the court of Milan.

Pant.
To morrow, may it please you, don Alphonso,
With other gentlemen of good esteem,
Are journeying to salute the royal duke,
And to recommend their service to his will.

Ant.
Good company: with them shall Protheus go!—
And in good time now will we break it to him. Enter Protheus, reading a letter, followed by Launce.

Pro.
Sweet love—sweet lines—sweet life!
Here is her hand, the agent of her heart!
Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn!
Oh! that our fathers would applaud our loves,
And seal our happiness with their consents!
Oh! heav'nly Julia!—How got you this letter?

Launce. [In a low voice]

Madam Julia beckon'd from the balcony, and, tipping me a sweet wink, dropt it into my hat.

Ant.

How now? what letter are you reading there?

Pro.

May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two of commendation sent from Valentine, brought by a friend that met him on the way.

Ant.

Lend me the letter; let me see what news.

Pro.

There is no news, my lord, but that he writes wishing me with him partner of his fortune.

Ant.
And how stand you affected to his wish?

Pro.
As one relying on your lordship's will,
And not depending on his friendly wish.

Ant.
My will is something sorted with his wish.
Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed;
For what I will, I will; and there's an end.
I am resolv'd that thou shalt spend some time
With Valentine in the court of Milan.
What maintenance he from his friends receives,
Like exhibition thou shalt have from me:
To-morrow be in readiness to go;
Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.

Pro.
My lord I cannot be so soon provided:
Please to deliberate a day or two.

Ant.
Look, what thou want'st shall be sent after thee:
No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.
Come on, Panthion, you shall be employ'd
To hasten on this expedition: run home, Launce,

Run my good lad, and pack up speedily:
To-morrow you both away for Milan.
I have said it. [Exit Anthonio, Panthion, and Launce, Launce looking in a fright at his master.

Pro.
Thus have I shun'd the fire for fear of drowning,
And drench'd me in the sea where I am drown'd;
I fear'd to shew my father Julia's letter,
Lest he should take exceptions to my love;
And with the vantage of mine own excuse,
Hath he excepted most against my love:
O how this spring of love resembleth
Th' uncertain glory of an April day;
Which now shews all the beauties of the sun
And by and by, a cloud takes all away! Panthion re-enters.

Pant.
Sir Protheus—your father calls for you;
He is in haste, therefore I pray you, go.

Pro.
Why, this it is! my heart accords thereto:
And yet a thousand times it answers, no. Exeunt. Scene changes to Julia's chamber. Enter Julia and Lucetta.

Jul.
But say, Lucetta, now we are alone,
Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love?

Luc.
Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheedfully.

Jul.
Of all the fair resort of gentlemen
That every day with parle encounter me,
In thy opinion which is worthiest love?

Luc.
Please you repeat their names; I'll shew my mind,
According to my shallow simple skill.

Jul.
What think'st thou of the fair sir Eglamour?

Luc.
As of a knight well spoken, neat, and fine;
But were I you, he never should be mine.

Jul.
What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio?

Luc.
Well, of his wealth; but of himself so, so.

Jul.
What think'st thou of the gentle Protheus?

Luc.
Lord, lord! to see what folly reigns in us!

Jul.
How now, what means this passion at his name?

Luc.
Pardon dear madam, 'tis a passing shame
That I, unworthy body as I am
Should censure thus on worthy gentlemen.

Jul.
Why not on Protheus as on all the rest?

Luc.
Then thus; of many bad, I think him best.

Jul.
Your reason?

Luc.
I have no other but a woman's reason;
I think him so, because I think him so.

Jul.
And would'st thou have me cast my love on him?

Luc.
Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.

Jul.
Why he of all the rest has never moved me.

Luc.
Yet he of all the rest, I think, best loves you.

Jul.
His little speaking shews his love but small.

Luc.
The fire that's closest kept burns most of all.

Jul.
They do not love, that do not shew their love.

Luc.
Oh, they love least, that let men know their love.

Jul.
I would I knew his mind.

Luc. [Pulling a letter out of her bosom]
Peruse this paper, madam:

Jul. [Looking at it]
To Julia, say from whom?

Luc.
That the contents will shew

Jul.
Say, say, who gave it thee?

Luc.
Sir Valentine's page—but sent, he said, from Protheus.
He would have given it you, but I, being in the way,
Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault I pray.

Jul.
Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker!
Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines?
To whisper and conspire against my youth?
There, take the paper; see it be return'd;
Or else return no more into my sight.

Luc.
To plead for love, deserves more see than hate.

Jul.
Will you be gone?

Luc.
O yes, that you may ruminate [Exit Lucetta.

Jul.
And yet I would—I had o'erlook'd the letter.
It were a shame to call her back again,
And pray her to a fault for which I chid her.
What fool is she that knows I am a maid,
And would not force the letter to my view?
Fie, fie; how wayward is this foolish love,
That like a testy babe will scratch the nurse,
And presently all humbled, kiss the rod?
How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,
When willingly I would have had her here!
My penance is to call Lucetta back,
And ask remission for my folly past.
What ho! Lucetta! Re-enter Lucetta.

Luc.
What would your ladyship?

Jul.
It's near dinner time?

Luc.
I would it were;

That you might kill your stomach on your meat,
And not upon your maid.

Jul.
What is't that you took up so gingerly?

Luc.
Nothing.

Jul.
Why did'st thou stoop then?

Luc.
To take a paper up that I let fall.

Jul.
And is that paper nothing?

Luc.
Nothing concerning me.

Jul.
Then let it lye for those that it concerns,

Luc.
Madam, it will not lye where it concerns,
Unless it have a false interpreter.

Jul.
Some love of your's hath writ to you in rhime.

Luc.
That I might sing it madam to a tune.
O how melodious were it, would you sing it!

Jul.
And why not you?

Luc.
I cannot reach so high.

Jul.
Let's see your song. [Lucetta shews the letter as before.
How now minion?

Luc.
Why now, methinks, I do not like that tune.

Jul.
You do not?

Luc.
No, madam, 'tis too sharp.

Jul.
You, minion, are too sawcey.
This babble shall not henceforth trouble me, Takes the letter and tears it.
Here is a coil with protestation!
Go get you gone and let the papers lye:
You would be fingering them—begone. [Exit Lucetta.
O hateful hands to tear such loving words!
Injurious wasps to feed on such sweet honey,
And kill the bees that yield it with your stings!
I'll kiss each several paper for amends:
Look, here is writ—kind Julia!
And here—love wounded Protheus—
Poor wounded name! my bosom as a bed
Shall lodge thee, 'till the wound be thoroughly heal'd,
And thus I search it with a sov'reign kiss. [Kisses it. Lucetta returns slowly with looks of fear. Julia looking gravely at her.

Jul.

Well—

Luc.

Madam!

Jul.

What's the matter? your business?

Luc.

Nothing madam.

Jul.

Nothing! you came uncall'd—look frighted—and are trembling! can this be at nothing?

Luc.
No—nothing, madam—there is—nothing—
Yes—there is—nothing, madam—

Jul.

What has bewitch'd thee, Lucetta? there must be something.

Luc.

Yes, madam—there is something—somebody—but you frighten me so!

Jul.

Who is it?

Luc.

Why, madam—it is, madam, pray don't be angry with, me—Sir Protheus—madam—he begs to speak with you a few words in haste, madam.

Jul.
Protheus! why did'nt you tell me in haste?
Why all this coil to tell me? [Runs out.

Luc.

Ha, ha, ha—you have spoke at last, my young hypocritical lady, I can see plainly, altho' you judge I wink—or I have rather wink'd when you suppos'd I slept! How those modest young ladies can counterfeit—and cover their passions with indifference? nay, I have counterfeited too, and paid her in the same coin—for I have counterfeited fear to flatter her hypocrisy! how player like did I enact fear in delivering the letter?—when it was plain all the way she would be pleas'd to be so anger'd with another—She shan't think tho' to carry on even an honourable intrigue without me—No, no, that must not be—what will the lawyers say, if I was to suffer my young lady to dispose of her own property without looking into her deeds and settlements?—Bless me, here they come!—and my lady in trouble.