Speed.
Speed.
Sir, your Glove.
Val.
Not mine; my Gloves are on.
Speed.
Why then this may be yours, for this is but one.
Val.
Ha? let me see: Ay, give it me, it's mine:
Sweet Ornament that decks a Thing divine.
Ah Silvia, Silvia!
Speed.
Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia!
Val.
How now Sirrah?
Speed.
She is not within hearing, Sir.
Val.
Why Sir, who bad you call her?
Speed.
Your Worship, Sir, or else I mistook.
Val.
Well, you'll still be too forward.
Speed.
And yet I was last chidden for being too slow.
Val.
Go to Sir, tell me, do you know Madam Silvia?
Speed.
She that your Worship loves?
Val.
Why, how know you that I am in Love?
Speed.
Marry, by these special Marks: First, you have
learn'd, like Sir Protheus, to wreath your Arms like a Male-content,
to relish a Love-Song like a Robin-red-breast, to
-- 76 --
walk alone like one that had the Pestilence, to sigh like a
School-boy that had lost his A, B, C, to weep like a young
Wench that had lost her Grandam, to fast like one that
takes Diet, to watch like one that fears robbing, to speak
puling like a Beggar at Hollowmass: You were wont, when
you laugh'd, to crow like a Cock; when you walk'd, to
walk like one of the Lions; when you fasted, it was presently
after Dinner; when you look'd sadly, it was for
want of Mony: And now you are metamorphos'd with a
Mistress, that when I look on you, I can hardly think you
my Master.
Val.
Are all these things perceiv'd in me?
Speed.
They are all perceiv'd without ye.
Val.
Without me? they cannot.
Speed.
Without you? nay, that's certain; 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 Urinal; that not an Eye
that sees you, but is a Physician to comment on your Malady.
Val.
But tell me, dost thou know my Lady Silvia?
Speed.
She that you gaze on so as she sits at Supper?
Val.
Hast thou observ'd that? Even she I mean.
Speed.
Why, Sir, I know her not.
Val.
Dost thou know her by gazing on her, and yet
know'st her not?
Speed.
Is she not hard-favour'd, Sir?
Val.
Not so fair, Boy, as well favour'd.
Speed.
Sir, I know that well enough,
Val.
What dost thou know?
Speed.
That she is not so fair, as of you well favour'd.
Val.
I mean that her Beauty is exquisite,
But her Favour 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 fair, that no
Man counts of her Beauty.
Val.
How esteem'st thou me? I account of her Beauty.
Speed.
You never saw her since she was deform'd.
Val.
How long hath she been deform'd?
-- 77 --
Speed.
Ever since you lov'd her.
Val.
I have lov'd her ever since I saw her,
And still I see her beautiful.
Speed.
If you love her, you cannot see her.
Val.
Why?
Speed.
Because Love is blind. O that you had mine Eyes,
or your own Eyes had the Lights they were wont to have,
when you chid at Sir Protheus for going ungarter'd.
Val.
What should I see then?
Speed.
Your own present Folly, and her passing Deformity:
For he, being in Love, could not see to garter his
Hose; and you, being in Love, cannot see to put on your
Hose.
Val.
Belike, Boy, then you are in Love; for last Morning
you could not see to wipe my Shoes.
Speed.
True, Sir, I was in Love with my Bed; I thank
you, you swing'd me for my Love, which makes me 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 enjoin'd me
To write some Lines to one she loves.
Speed.
And have you?
Val.
I have.
Speed.
Are they not lamely writ?
Val.
No, Boy, but as well as I can do them:
Peace, here she comes.
Enter Silvia.
Speed.
Oh excellent Motion! Oh exceeding Puppet!
Now will he interpret to her.
Val.
Madam and Mistress, a thousand Good-morrows.
Speed.
Oh! 'give ye Good-ev'n; here's a million of Manners.
Sil.
Sir Valentine, and Servant, to you two thousand.
Speed.
He should give her Interest; and she gives it him.
Val.
As you have injoin'd me, I have writ your Letter
Unto the secret, nameless Friend of yours;
Which I was much unwilling to proceed in,
But for my Duty to your Ladyship.
Sil.
I thank you, gentle Servant, 'tis very Clerkly done.
Val.
Now trust me, Madam, it came hardly off:
-- 78 --
For being ignorant to whom it goes,
I writ at random, 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 guess the Sequel;
And yet I will not name it, and yet I care not,
And yet take this again, and yet I thank you;
Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more.
Speed.
And yet you will; and yet, another yet.
[Aside.
Val.
What means your Ladyship?
Do you not like it?
Sil.
Yes, yes; the Lines are very quaintly writ;
But, since unwillingly, take them again;
Nay, take them.
Val.
Madam, they are for you.
Sil.
Ay, Ay? you writ them, Sir, at my Request;
But I will none of them; they are for you:
I would have had them writ more movingly.
Val.
Please you, I'll write your Ladyship another.
Sil.
And when it's writ, for my sake read it over;
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, Servant.
[Exit.
Speed.
Oh Jest unseen, inscrutible, invisible,
As a Nose on a Man's Face, or a Weathercock on a Steeple;
My Master sues to her, and she hath taught her Sutor,
He being her Pupil, to become her Tutor:
Oh excellent Device! was there ever heard a better?
That my Master being Scribe,
To himself should write the Letter?
Val.
How now, Sir?
What are you reasoning with your self?
Speed.
Nay, I was riming; 'tis you that have the Reason.
Val.
To do what?
Speed.
To be a Spokes-man from Madam Silvia.
Val.
To whom?
Speed.
To your self; why, she woos you by a Figure.
Val.
What Figure?
-- 79 --
Speed.
By a Letter, I should say.
Val.
Why, she hath not writ to me?
Speed.
What need she,
When she hath made you write to your self?
Why, do you not perceive the Jest?
Val.
No, believe me.
Speed.
No believing you indeed, Sir:
But did you perceive her Earnest?
Val.
She gave me none, except an angry Word.
Speed.
Why, she hath given you a Letter.
Val.
That's the Letter I writ to her Friend.
Speed.
And that Letter hath she deliver'd, and there's an end.
Val.
I would it were no worse.
Speed.
I'll warrant you 'tis as well:
For often have you writ to her, and she in Modesty,
Or else for want of idle Time, could not again reply;
Or fearing else some Messenger that might her Mind discover,
Her self hath taught her Love himself to write unto her Lover.
All this I speak in Print; for in Print I found it.
Why muse you, Sir? 'tis Dinner-time.
Val.
I have din'd,
Speed.
Ay, but hearken, Sir; though the Cameleon Love
can feed on the Air, I am one that am nourish'd by my Victuals;
and would fain have Meat: Oh be not like your Mistress;
be moved, be moved.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Protheus and Julia.
Pro.
Have Patience, gentle Julia.
Jul.
I must, where is no Remedy.
Pro.
When possibly I can, I will return.
Jul.
If you turn not, you will return the sooner:
Keep this Remembrance for thy Julia's sake.
[Giving a Ring.
Pro.
Why then we'll make Exchange;
Here, take you this.
Jul.
And seal this Bargain with a holy Kiss.
Pro.
Here is my Hand for my true Constancy:
And when that Hour o'er-slips me in the Day,
Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake,
-- 80 --
The next ensuing Hour some foul Mischance
Torment me, for my Love's Forgetfulness.
My Father stays my coming; answer not:
The Tide is now; nay, not thy Tide of Tears;
That Tide will stay me longer than I should:
[Exit Julia.
Julia, farewel. What! gone without a Word?
Ay, so true Love should do; it cannot speak;
For Truth hath better Deeds than Words to grace it.
Enter Panthion.
Pan.
Sir Protheus, you are staid for.
Pro.
Go; I come, I come;
Alas! this Parting strikes poor Lovers dumb.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter Launce.
Laun.
Nay, 'twill be this Hour e'er I have done weeping;
all the Kind of the Launces have this very Fault: I
have receiv'd my Proportion, like the prodigious Son, and
am going with Sir Protheus to the Imperial's Court. I think
Crab, my Dog, be the sowrest natur'd Dog that lives: My
Mother weeping, my Father wailing, my Sister crying, our
Maid howling, our Cat wringing her Hands, and all our
House in great Perplexity; yet did not this cruel-hearted
Cur shed one Tear: He is a Stone, a very Pibble-stone,
and has no more Pity in him than a Dog: A Jew would
have wept to have seen our Parting; why, my Grandam,
having no Eyes, look you, wept her self blind at my Parting.
Nay, I'll show you the manner of it: This Shoe is
my Father; no, this left Shoe is my Father; no, no, this
left Shoe is my Mother; nay, that cannot be so neither;
yes, it is so, it is so; it hath the worser Sole; this Shoe
with the Hole in it is my Mother, and this my Father; a
Vengeance on't, there 'tis: Now, Sir, this Staff is my Sister;
for look you, she is as white as a Lilly, and as small as
a Wand; this Hat is Nan, our Maid; I am the Dog; no,
the Dog is himself, and I am the Dog: Oh, the Dog is
me, and I am my self; ay, so, so: Now come I to my Father;
Father, your Blessing: Now should not the Shoe
speak a Word for weeping; now should I kiss my Father;
well, he weeps on: Now come I to my Mother; oh that
she could speak now like a Would-woman; well, I kiss her;
-- 81 --
why there 'tis; here's my Mother's Breath up and
down: Now come I to my Sister; mark what Moan
she makes: Now the Dog all this while sheds not a Tear,
nor speaks a Word; but see how I lay the Dust with my
Tears.
Enter Panthion.
Pant.
Launce, away, away, aboard; thy Master is shipp'd
and thou art to post after with Oars: What's the Matter?
why weep'st thou, Man? away Ass, you will lose the Tide
if you tarry any longer.
Laun.
It is no matter if the Tide were lost, for it is the
unkindest Tide that ever any Man ty'd.
Pant.
What's the unkindest Tide?
Laun.
Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my Dog.
Pant.
But, Man, I mean, thou'lt lose the Flood; and in
losing the Flood, lose thy Voyage; and in losing thy Voy
age, lose thy Master; and in losing thy Master, lose thy
Service; and in losing thy Service,—Why dost thou stop
my Mouth?
Laun.
For fear thou should'st lose thy Tongue.
Pant.
Where should I lose my Tongue?
Laun.
In thy Tale.
Pant.
In thy Tail.
Laun.
Lose the Tide, and the Voyage, and the Master,
and the Service, and the Tide; why, Man, if the River were
dry, I am able to fill it with my Tears; if the Wind were
down, I could drive the Boat with my Sighs.
Pant.
Come, come away, Man; I was sent to call thee.
Laun.
Sir, call me what thou dar'st.
Pant.
Wilt thou go?
Laun.
Well, I will go.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Enter Valentine, Silvia, Thurio and Speed.
Sil.
Servant.
Val.
Mistress.
Speed.
Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you.
Val.
Ay Boy, it's for Love.
Speed.
Not of you.
Val.
Of my Mistress then.
-- 82 --
Speed.
'Twere good you knockt him.
Sil.
Servant, you are sad.
Val.
Indeed, Madam, I seem so.
Thu.
Seem you that you are not?
Val.
Haply I do.
Thu.
So do Counterfeits.
Val.
So do you.
Thu.
What seem I that I am not?
Val.
Wise.
Thu.
What Instance of the contrary?
Val.
Your Folly.
Thu.
And how quote you my Folly?
Val.
I quote it in your Jerkin.
Thu.
My Jerkin is a Doublet.
Val.
Well then, I'll double your Folly.
Thu.
How?
Sil.
What, angry, Sir Thurio? do you change Colour?
Val.
Give him leave, Madam; he is a kind of Camelion.
Thu.
That hath more mind to feed on your Blood, than
live in your Air.
Val.
You have said, Sir.
Thu.
Ay Sir, and done too, for this time.
Val.
I know it well, Sir; you always end e'er you begin.
Sil.
A fine Volly of Words, Gentlemen, and quickly
shot off.
Val.
'Tis indeed, Madam; we thank the Giver.
Sil.
Who is that, Servant?
Val.
Your self, sweet Lady, for you gave the Fire:
Sir Thurio borrows his Wit from your Ladyship's Looks,
And spends what he borrows 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 have an Exchequer of Words,
And, I think, to other Treasure to give your Followers:
For it appears, by their bare Liveries,
That they live by your bare Words.
Sil.
No more, Gentlemen, no more:
Here comes my Father.
Enter the Duke.
Duke.
Now, Daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.
Sir Valentine, your Father is in good Health:
-- 83 --
What say you to a Letter from your Friends
Of much good News?
Val.
My Lord, I will be thankful
To any Messenger from thence.
Duke.
Know you Don Antonio, your Countryman?
Val.
Ay, my good Lord, I know the Gentleman
To be of Worth, and worthy Estimation,
And not without Desert so well reputed.
Duke.
Hath he not a Son?
Val.
Ay, my good Lord, a Son that well deserves
The Honour and Regard of such a Father.
Duke.
You know him well?
Val.
I knew him as my self, for from our Infancy
We have converst, and spent our Hours together:
And tho' my self have been an idle Truant,
Omitting the sweet Benefit of Time,
To clothe mine Age with Angel-like Perfection;
Yet hath Sir Protheus, for that's his Name,
Made Use and fair Advantage of his Days:
His Years but young, but his Experience old;
His Head unmellow'd, but his Judgment ripe;
And in a Word, for far behind his Worth
Come all the Praises that I now bestow,
He is compleat in Feature and in Mind,
With all good Grace to grace a Gentleman.
Duke.
Beshrew me, Sir, but if he make this good,
He is as worthy for an Empress' Love,
As meet to be an Emperor's Counsellor:
Well, Sir, this Gentleman is come to me,
With Commendation from great Potentates;
And here he means to spend his Time a while.
I think 'tis no welcome News to you.
Val.
Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he.
Duke.
Welcome him then according to his Worth:
Silvia, I speak to you; and you, Sir Thurio;
For Valentine, I need not cite him to it:
I will send him hither to you presently.
[Exit Duke.
Val.
This is the Gentleman I told your Ladyship
Had come along with me, but that his Mistress
Did hold his Eyes lockt in her Christal Looks.
Sil.
Belike that now she hath enfranchis'd them
-- 84 --
Upon some other Pawn for Fealty.
Val.
Nay sure, I think she holds them Prisoners still.
Sil.
Nay, then he should be blind; and being blind,
How could he see his Way to seek out you?
Val.
Why Lady, Love hath twenty Pair of Eyes.
Thu.
They say that Love hath not an Eye at all.
Val.
To see such Lovers, Thurio, as your self:
Upon a homely Object Love can wink.
Enter Protheus.
Sil.
Have done, have done; here comes the Gentleman.
Val.
Welcome, dear Protheus: Mistress, I beseech you
Confirm this Welcome with some special Favour.
Sil.
His Worth is Warrant for his Welcome hither,
If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from.
Val.
Mistress, it is: Sweet Lady, entertain him
To be my Fellow-servant to your Ladyship.
Sil.
Too low a Mistress for so high a Servant.
Pro.
Not so, sweet Lady; but too mean a Servant
To have a Look of such a worthy Mistress.
Val.
Leave off Discourse of Disability:
Sweet Lady entertain him for your Servant.
Pro.
My Duty will I boast of, nothing else.
Sil.
And Duty never yet did want his Meed:
Servant, you are welcome to a worthless Mistress.
Pro.
I'll die on him that says so but your self.
Sil.
That you are welcome?
Pro.
That you are worthless.
Thu.
Madam, my Lord, your Father, would speak with you.
Sil.
I wait upon his Pleasure: Come, Sir Thurio,
Go with me. Once more, new Servant, welcome:
I'll leave you to confer of home Affairs;
When you have done, we look to hear from you.
Pro.
We'll both attend upon your Ladyship.
[Ex. Sil. and Thu.
Val.
Now tell me how do all from whence you came?
Pro.
Your Friends are well, and have them much commended.
Val.
And how do yours?
Pro.
I left them all in Health.
Val.
How does your Lady? and how thrives your Love?
Pro.
My Tales of Love were wont to weary you;
I know you joy not in a Love-discourse.
-- 85 --
Val.
Ay, Protheus, but that Life is alter'd now;
I have done Penance for contemning Love,
Whose high imperious Thoughts have punish'd me
With bitter Fasts, with penitential Groans,
With nightly Tears and daily heart-sore Sighs:
For in revenge of my Contempt of Love,
Love hath chac'd Sleep from my enthralled Eyes,
And made them Watchers of mine own Heart's Sorrow.
O gentle Protheus, Love's a mighty Lord,
And hath so humbled me, as I confess
There is no Wo to his Correction;
Nor to his Service, no such Joy on Earth.
Now no Discourse, except it be of Love;
Now can I break my Fast, dine, sup and sleep
Upon the very naked Name of Love.
Pro.
Enough: I read your Fortune in your Eye.
Was this the Idol that you worship so?
Val.
Even she; and is she not a heav'nly Saint?
Pro.
No; but she is an earthly Paragon.
Val.
Call her divine.
Pro.
I will not flatter her.
Val.
O flatter me; for Love delights in Praise.
Pro.
When I was sick you gave me bitter Pills,
And I must minister the like to you.
Val.
Then speak the Truth by her: If not divine,
Yet let her be a Principality,
Soveraign to all the Creatures on the Earth.
Pro.
Except my Mistress.
Val.
Sweet, except not any,
Except thou wilt except against my Love.
Pro.
Have I not Reason to prefer mine own?
Val.
And I will help thee to prefer her too:
She shall be dignify'd with this high Honour,
To bear my Lady's Train, lest the base Earth
Should from her Vesture chance to steal a Kiss;
And of so great a Favour growing proud,
Disdain to root the Summer-swelling Flower,
And make rough Winter everlastingly.
Pro.
Why, Valentine, what Bragadism is this?
Val.
Pardon me, Protheus; all I can is nothing,
To her, whose Worth makes other Worthies nothing:
She is alone.
-- 86 --
Pro.
Then let her alone.
Val.
Not for the World: Why, Man, she is mine own,
And I as rich in having such a Jewel,
As twenty Seas, if all their Sand were Pearl,
The Water Nectar, and the Rock pure Gold.
Forgive me that I do not dream on thee,
Because thou seest me doat upon my Love.
My foolish Rival, that her Father likes,
Only for his Possessions are so huge,
Is gone with her along, and I must after;
For Love, thou know'st, is full of Jealousie.
Pro.
But she loves you?
Val.
Ay, and we are betrothed; nay more, our Marriage Hour,
With all the cunning manner of our Flight,
Determin'd of; how I must climb her Window,
The Ladder made of Cords, and all the Means
Plotted and 'greed on for my Happiness.
Good Protheus go with me to my Chamber,
In these Affairs to aid me with thy Counsel.
Pro.
Go on before; I shall enquire you forth.
I must unto the Road, to disembark
Some Necessaries that I needs must use,
And then I'll presently attend you.
Val.
Will you make haste?
Pro.
I will.
[Exit Val.
Even as one Heat another Heat expels,
Or as one Nail by Strength drives out another;
So the Remembrance of my former Love
Is by a newer Object quite forgotten:
Is it mine then, or Valentino's Praise?
Her true Perfection, or my false Transgression,
That makes me reasonless, to reason thus?
She is fair; and so is Julia, that I love;
That I did love; for now my Love is thaw'd,
Which, like a waxen Image 'gainst a Fire,
Bears no Impression of the thing it was:
Methinks my Zeal to Valentine is cold,
And that I love him not as I was wont.
O! but I love his Lady too too much;
And that's the Reason I love him so little.
How shall I doat on her with more Advice,
-- 87 --
That thus without Advice begin to love her?
'Tis but her Picture I have yet beheld,
And that hath dazled so my Reason's Light:
But when I look on her Perfections,
There is no Reason but I shall be blind.
If I can check my erring Love, I will;
If not, to compass her I'll use my Skill.
[Exit.
SCENE V.
Enter Speed and Launce.
Speed.
Launce, by mine Honesty welcome to Padua.
Laun.
Forswear not thy self, sweet Youth; for I am not
welcome: I reckon this always, that a Man is never undone
'till he is hang'd, nor never welcome a to Place, 'till
some certain Shot be paid, and the Hostess say Welcome.
Speed.
Come on, you Mad-cap; I'll to the Ale-house
with you presently, where, for one Shot of five Pence,
thou shalt have five thousand Welcomes. But, Sirrah, how
did thy Master part with Madam Julia?
Laun.
Marry, after they clos'd in earnest, they parted
very fairly in Jest.
Speed.
But shall she marry him?
Laun.
No.
Speed.
How then? Shall he marry her?
Laun.
No, neither.
Speed.
What, are they broken?
Laun.
No, they are both as whole as a Fish.
Speed.
Why then, how stands the Matter with them?
Laun.
Marry thus; when it stands well with him, it
stands well with her.
Speed.
What an Ass art thou? I understand thee not.
Laun.
What a Block art thou, that thou canst not?
My Staff understands me.
Speed.
What thou say'st?
Laun.
Ay, and what I do too: Look thee, I'll but lean,
and my Staff understands me.
Speed.
It stands under thee indeed.
Laun.
Why, stand-under, and understand is all one.
Speed.
But tell me true, will't be a Match?
-- 88 --
Laun.
Ask my Dog: If he say ay, it will; if he say no,
it will; if he shake his Tail, and say nothing, it will.
Speed.
The Conclusion is then, that it will.
Laun.
Thou shalt never get such a Secret from me, but
by a Parable.
Speed.
'Tis well that I get it so: But, Launce, how say'st
thou, that my Master is become a notable Lover?
Laun.
I never knew him otherwise.
Speed.
Than how?
Laun.
A notable Lubber, as thou reportest him to be.
Speed.
Why, thou whoreson Ass, thou mistak'st me.
Laun.
Why Fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy Master.
Speed.
I tell thee, my Master is become a hot Lover.
Laun.
Why, I tell thee, I care not tho' he burn himself
in Love: If thou wilt go with me to the Alehouse, so; if
not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the Name
of a Christian.
Speed.
Why?
Laun.
Because thou hast not so much Charity in thee as
to go the Ale-house with a Christian: Wilt thou go?
Speed.
At thy Service.
[Exeunt.
SCENE VI.
Enter Protheus solus.
Pro.
To leave my Julia; shall I be forsworn?
To love fair Silvia; shall I be forswon?
To wrong my Friend, I shall be much forsworn:
And ev'n that Pow'r which gave me first my Oath,
Provokes me to this threefold Perjury.
Love bad me swear, and Love bids me forswear:
O sweet suggesting Love, if thou hast sinn'd,
Teach me, thy tempted Subject, to excuse it.
At first I did adore a twinkling Star,
But now I worship a celestial Sun:
Unheedful Vows may heedfully be broken;
And he wants Wit that wants resolved Will,
To learn his Wit t' exchange the bad for better:
Fie, fie, unreverend Tongue, to call her bad,
Whose Sov'raignty so oft thou hast preferr'd,
-- 89 --
With twenty thousand Soul-confirming Oaths.
I cannot leave to love, and yet I do:
But there I leave to love where I should love:
Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose:
If I keep them, I needs must lose my self:
If I lose them, thus find I but their Loss,
For Valentine, my self, for Julia, Silvia:
I to my self am dearer than a Friend;
For Love is still most precious in it self:
And Silvia, witness Heav'n that made her Fair,
Shews Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.
I will forget that Julia is alive,
Remembring that my Love to her is dead:
And Valentine I'll hold an Enemy,
Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter Friend:
I cannot now prove constant to my self,
Without some Treachery us'd to Valentine:
This Night he meaneth, with a corded Ladder,
To climb celestial Silvia's Chamber-Window,
My self in Council his Competitor:
Now presently I'll give her Father notice
Of their disguising, and pretended Flight;
Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentine;
For Thurio he intends shall wed his Daughter.
But Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross,
By some sly Trick, blunt Thurio's dull Proceeding.
Love lend me Wings, to make my purpose swift,
As thou hast lent me Wit to plot his Drift.
[Exit.
SCENE VII.
Enter Julia and Lucetta.
Jul.
Counsel, Lucetta; gentle Girl, assist me,
And even in kind Love I do conjure thee,
Who art the Table wherein all my Thoughts
Are visibly Character'd and Engrav'd,
To lesson me, and tell me some good Mean,
How with my Honour I may undertake
A Journey to my loving Protheus.
Luc.
Alas, the Way is wearisome and long.
Jul.
A true devoted Pilgrim is not weary
-- 90 --
To measure Kingdoms with his feeble Steps,
Much less shall she, that hath Love's Wings to fly;
And when the Flight is made to one so dear,
Of such divine Perfection as Sir Protheus.
Luc.
Better forbear 'till Protheus make Return.
Jul.
Oh, know'st thou not, his Looks are my Soul's Food?
Pity the Dearth that I have pined in,
By longing for that Food so long a time:
Didst thou but know the inly Touch of Love,
Thou would'st as soon go kindle Fire with Snow,
As seek to quench the Fire of Love with Words.
Luc.
I do not seek to quench your Love's hot Fire,
But qualifie the Fire's extream Rage,
Lest it should burn above the Bounds of Reason.
Jul.
The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns:
The Current that with gentle Murmur glides,
Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;
But when his fair Course is not hindered,
He makes sweet Musick with th' ennamel'd Stones,
Giving a gentle Kiss to every Sedge
He overtaketh in his Pilgrimage:
And so by many winding Nooks he strays,
With willing Sport, to the wild Ocean.
Then let me go, and hinder not my Course;
I'll be as patient as a gentle Stream,
And make a Pastime of each weary Step,
'Till the last Step have brought me to my Love;
And there I'll rest, as, after much Turmoil,
A blessed Soul doth in Elizium.
Luc.
But in what Habit will you go along?
Jul.
Not like a Woman; for I would prevent
The loose Encounters of lascivious Men:
Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such Weeds
As may beseem some well-reputed Page.
Luc.
Why then your Ladyship must cut your Hair.
Jul.
No, Girl; I'll knit it up in silken Strings,
With twenty odd-conceited true-love Knots:
To be fantastick, may become a Youth
Of greater time than I shall show to be.
Luc.
What Fashion, Madam, shall I make your Breeches?
Jul.
That fits as well, as tell me, good my Lord,
-- 91 --
What compass will you wear your Farthingale?
Why, even what Fashion thou best likes, Lucetta.
Luc.
You must needs have them with a Cod-piece, Madam.
Jul.
Out, out, Lucetta, that will be ill-favour'd.
Luc.
A round Hose, Madam, now's not worth a Pin,
Unless you have a Cod-piece to stick Pins on.
Jul.
Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have
What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly:
But tell me, Wench, how will the World repute me
For undertaking so unstaid a Journey?
I fear me it will make me scandaliz'd.
Luc.
If you think so, then stay at home, and go not.
Jul.
Nay, that I will not.
Luc.
Then never dream on Infamy, but go.
If Protheus like your Journey when you come,
No matter who's displeas'd when you are gone:
I fear me he will scarce be pleas'd with all.
Jul.
That is the least, Lucetta, of my Fear:
A thousand Oaths, an Ocean of his Tears,
And Instances as infinite of Love,
Warrant me welcome to my Protheus.
Luc.
All these are Servants to deceitful Men.
Jul.
Base Men that use them to so base Effect:
But truer Stars did govern Protheus Birth;
His Words are Bonds, his Oaths are Oracles,
His Love sincere, his Thoughts immaculate,
His Tears pure Messengers sent from his Heart,
His Heart as far from Fraud as Heav'n from Earth.
Luc.
Pray Heav'n he prove so when you come to him.
Jul.
Now as thou lov'st me, do him not that Wrong,
To bear a hard Opinion of his Truth;
Only deserve my Love by loving him.
And presently go with me to my Chamber,
To take a Note of what I stand in need of,
To furnish me upon my longing Journey:
All that is mine I leave at thy Dispose,
My Goods, my Lands, my Reputation,
Only in lieu thereof dispatch me hence.
Come, answer not; but to it presently:
I am impatient of my Tarriance.
[Exeunt.
-- 92 --
Charles Gildon [1709–1710], The works of Mr. William Shakespear; in six [seven] volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts. Revis'd and Corrected, with an Account of the Life and Writings of the Author. By N. Rowe ([Vol. 7] Printed for E. Curll... and E. Sanger [etc.], London) [word count] [S11401].
