Act II
Scene I
Milan. The Duke’s palace.
Enter Valentine and Speed. | |
Speed | Sir, your glove. |
Valentine | Not mine; my gloves are on. |
Speed | Why, then, this may be yours, for this is but one. |
Valentine |
Ha! let me see: ay, give it me, it’s mine:
|
Speed | Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia! |
Valentine | How now, sirrah? |
Speed | She is not within hearing, sir. |
Valentine | Why, sir, who bade you call her? |
Speed | Your worship, sir; or else I mistook. |
Valentine | Well, you’ll still be too forward. |
Speed | And yet I was last chidden for being too slow. |
Valentine | Go to, sir: tell me, do you know Madam Silvia? |
Speed | She that your worship loves? |
Valentine | Why, how know you that I am in love? |
Speed | Marry, by these special marks: first, you have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreathe your arms, like a malecontent; to relish a love-song, like a robin-redbreast; to 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 buried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one that fears robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you looked sadly, it was for want of money: and now you are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I look on you, I can hardly think you my master. |
Valentine | Are all these things perceived in me? |
Speed | They are all perceived without ye. |
Valentine | 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. |
Valentine | But tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia? |
Speed | She that you gaze on so as she sits at supper? |
Valentine | Hast thou observed that? even she, I mean. |
Speed | Why, sir, I know her not. |
Valentine | Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet knowest her not? |
Speed | Is she not hard-favoured, sir? |
Valentine | Not so fair, boy, as well-favoured. |
Speed | Sir, I know that well enough. |
Valentine | What dost thou know? |
Speed | That she is not so fair as, of you, well favoured. |
Valentine | 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. |
Valentine | How painted? and how out of count? |
Speed | Marry, sir, so painted, to make her fair, that no man counts of her beauty. |
Valentine | How esteemest thou me? I account of her beauty. |
Speed | You never saw her since she was deformed. |
Valentine | How long hath she been deformed? |
Speed | Ever since you loved her. |
Valentine | I have loved her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful. |
Speed | If you love her, you cannot see her. |
Valentine | 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 Proteus for going ungartered! |
Valentine | 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. |
Valentine | 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 swinged me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you for yours. |
Valentine | In conclusion, I stand affected to her. |
Speed | I would you were set, so your affection would cease. |
Valentine | Last night she enjoined me to write some lines to one she loves. |
Speed | And have you? |
Valentine | I have. |
Speed | Are they not lamely writ? |
Valentine | No, boy, but as well as I can do them. Peace! here she comes. |
Speed | Aside. O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet! Now will he interpret to her. |
Enter Silvia. | |
Valentine | Madam and mistress, a thousand good-morrows. |
Speed | Aside. O, give ye good even! here’s a million of manners. |
Silvia | Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand. |
Speed | Aside. He should give her interest, and she gives it him. |
Valentine |
As you enjoin’d me, I have writ your letter
|
Silvia | I thank you gentle servant: ’tis very clerkly done. |
Valentine |
Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off;
|
Silvia | Perchance you think too much of so much pains? |
Valentine |
No, madam; so it stead you, I will write,
|
Silvia |
A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel;
|
Speed | Aside. And yet you will; and yet another “yet.” |
Valentine | What means your ladyship? do you not like it? |
Silvia |
Yes, yes: the lines are very quaintly writ;
|
Valentine | Madam, they are for you. |
Silvia |
Ay, ay: you writ them, sir, at my request;
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Valentine | Please you, I’ll write your ladyship another. |
Silvia |
And when it’s writ, for my sake read it over,
|
Valentine | If it please me, madam, what then? |
Silvia |
Why, if it please you, take it for your labour:
|
Speed |
O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible,
|
Valentine | How now, sir? what are you reasoning with yourself? |
Speed | Nay, I was rhyming: ’tis you that have the reason. |
Valentine | To do what? |
Speed | To be a spokesman from Madam Silvia. |
Valentine | To whom? |
Speed | To yourself: why, she wooes you by a figure. |
Valentine | What figure? |
Speed | By a letter, I should say. |
Valentine | Why, she hath not writ to me? |
Speed | What need she, when she hath made you write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest? |
Valentine | No, believe me. |
Speed | No believing you, indeed, sir. But did you perceive her earnest? |
Valentine | She gave me none, except an angry word. |
Speed | Why, she hath given you a letter. |
Valentine | That’s the letter I writ to her friend. |
Speed | And that letter hath she delivered, and there an end. |
Valentine | I would it were no worse. |
Speed |
I’ll warrant you, ’tis as well:
|
Valentine | I have dined. |
Speed | Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat. O, be not like your mistress; be moved, be moved. Exeunt. |
Scene II
Verona. Julia’s house.
Enter Proteus and Julia. | |
Proteus | Have patience, gentle Julia. |
Julia | I must, where is no remedy. |
Proteus | When possibly I can, I will return. |
Julia |
If you turn not, you will return the sooner.
|
Proteus | Why then, we’ll make exchange; here, take you this. |
Julia | And seal the bargain with a holy kiss. |
Proteus |
Here is my hand for my true constancy;
|
Enter Panthino. | |
Panthino | Sir Proteus, you are stay’d for. |
Proteus |
Go; I come, I come.
|
Scene III
The same. A street.
Enter Launce, leading a dog. | |
Launce | Nay, ’twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault. I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial’s court. I think Crab my dog be the sourest-natured 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 a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear: he is a stone, a very pebble 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 herself 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, sit, this staff is my sister, for, look you, she is as white as a lily 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 myself; 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: O, that she could speak now like a wood woman! Well, I kiss her; why, there ’tis; here’s my mother’s breath up and down. Now come I to my sister; mark the 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 Panthino. | |
Panthino | Launce, away, away, aboard! thy master is shipped and thou art to post after with oars. What’s the matter? why weepest thou, man? Away, ass! you’ll lose the tide, if you tarry any longer. |
Launce | It is no matter if the tied were lost; for it is the unkindest tied that ever any man tied. |
Panthino | What’s the unkindest tide? |
Launce | Why, he that’s tied here, Crab, my dog. |
Panthino | Tut, man, I mean thou’lt lose the flood, and, in losing the flood, lose thy voyage, and, in losing thy voyage, lose thy master, and, in losing thy master, lose thy service, and, in losing thy service—Why dost thou stop my mouth? |
Launce | For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue. |
Panthino | Where should I lose my tongue? |
Launce | In thy tale. |
Panthino | In thy tail! |
Launce | Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service, and the tied! 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. |
Panthino | Come, come away, man; I was sent to call thee. |
Launce | Sir, call me what thou darest. |
Panthino | Wilt thou go? |
Launce | Well, I will go. Exeunt. |
Scene IV
Milan. The Duke’s palace.
Enter Silvia, Valentine, Thurio, and Speed. | |
Silvia | Servant! |
Valentine | Mistress? |
Speed | Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you. |
Valentine | Ay, boy, it’s for love. |
Speed | Not of you. |
Valentine | Of my mistress, then. |
Speed | ’Twere good you knocked him. Exit. |
Silvia | Servant, you are sad. |
Valentine | Indeed, madam, I seem so. |
Thurio | Seem you that you are not? |
Valentine | Haply I do. |
Thurio | So do counterfeits. |
Valentine | So do you. |
Thurio | What seem I that I am not? |
Valentine | Wise. |
Thurio | What instance of the contrary? |
Valentine | Your folly. |
Thurio | And how quote you my folly? |
Valentine | I quote it in your jerkin. |
Thurio | My jerkin is a doublet. |
Valentine | Well, then, I’ll double your folly. |
Thurio | How? |
Silvia | What, angry, Sir Thurio! do you change colour? |
Valentine | Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of chameleon. |
Thurio | That hath more mind to feed on your blood than live in your air. |
Valentine | You have said, sir. |
Thurio | Ay, sir, and done too, for this time. |
Valentine | I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin. |
Silvia | A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off. |
Valentine | ’Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver. |
Silvia | Who is that, servant? |
Valentine | Yourself, 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. |
Thurio | Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt. |
Valentine | I know it well, sir; you have an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other treasure to give your followers, for it appears by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words. |
Silvia | No more, gentlemen, no more: here comes my father. |
Enter Duke. | |
Duke |
Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.
|
Valentine |
My lord, I will be thankful
|
Duke | Know ye Don Antonio, your countryman? |
Valentine |
Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman
|
Duke | Hath he not a son? |
Valentine |
Ay, my good lord; a son that well deserves
|
Duke | You know him well? |
Valentine |
I know him as myself; for from our infancy
|
Duke |
Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this good,
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Valentine | Should I have wish’d a thing, it had been he. |
Duke |
Welcome him then according to his worth.
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Valentine |
This is the gentleman I told your ladyship
|
Silvia |
Belike that now she hath enfranchised them
|
Valentine | Nay, sure, I think she holds them prisoners still. |
Silvia |
Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind,
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Valentine | Why, lady, Love hath twenty pair of eyes. |
Thurio | They say that Love hath not an eye at all. |
Valentine |
To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself:
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Silvia | Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman. |
Enter Proteus. Exit Thurio. | |
Valentine |
Welcome, dear Proteus! Mistress, I beseech you,
|
Silvia |
His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,
|
Valentine |
Mistress, it is: sweet lady, entertain him
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Silvia | Too low a mistress for so high a servant. |
Proteus |
Not so, sweet lady: but too mean a servant
|
Valentine |
Leave off discourse of disability:
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Proteus | My duty will I boast of; nothing else. |
Silvia |
And duty never yet did want his meed:
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Proteus | I’ll die on him that says so but yourself. |
Silvia | That you are welcome? |
Proteus | That you are worthless. |
Re-enter Thurio. | |
Thurio | Madam, my lord your father would speak with you. |
Silvia |
I wait upon his pleasure. Come, Sir Thurio,
|
Proteus | We’ll both attend upon your ladyship. Exeunt Silvia and Thurio. |
Valentine | Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came? |
Proteus | Your friends are well and have them much commended. |
Valentine | And how do yours? |
Proteus | I left them all in health. |
Valentine | How does your lady? and how thrives your love? |
Proteus |
My tales of love were wont to weary you;
|
Valentine |
Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter’d now:
|
Proteus |
Enough; I read your fortune in your eye.
|
Valentine | Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint? |
Proteus | No; but she is an earthly paragon. |
Valentine | Call her divine. |
Proteus | I will not flatter her. |
Valentine | O, flatter me; for love delights in praises. |
Proteus |
When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills,
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Valentine |
Then speak the truth by her; if not divine,
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Proteus | Except my mistress. |
Valentine |
Sweet, except not any;
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Proteus | Have I not reason to prefer mine own? |
Valentine |
And I will help thee to prefer her too:
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Proteus | Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this? |
Valentine |
Pardon me, Proteus: all I can is nothing
|
Proteus | Then let her alone. |
Valentine |
Not for the world: why, man, she is mine own,
|
Proteus | But she loves you? |
Valentine |
Ay, and we are betroth’d: nay, more, our marriage-hour,
|
Proteus |
Go on before; I shall inquire you forth:
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Valentine | Will you make haste? |
Proteus |
I will. Exit Valentine.
|
Scene V
The same. A street.
Enter Speed and Launce severally. | |
Speed | Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to Milan! |
Launce | Forswear not thyself, sweet youth, for I am not welcome. I reckon this always, that a man is never undone till he be hanged, nor never welcome to a place till some certain shot be paid and the hostess say “Welcome!” |
Speed | Come on, you madcap, I’ll to the alehouse 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? |
Launce | Marry, after they closed in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest. |
Speed | But shall she marry him? |
Launce | No. |
Speed | How then? shall he marry her? |
Launce | No, neither. |
Speed | What, are they broken? |
Launce | No, they are both as whole as a fish. |
Speed | Why, then, how stands the matter with them? |
Launce | Marry, thus; when it stands well with him, it stands well with her. |
Speed | What an ass art thou! I understand thee not. |
Launce | What a block art thou, that thou canst not! My staff understands me. |
Speed | What thou sayest? |
Launce | Ay, and what I do too: look thee, I’ll but lean, and my staff understands me. |
Speed | It stands under thee, indeed. |
Launce | Why, stand-under and under-stand is all one. |
Speed | But tell me true, will’t be a match? |
Launce | 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. |
Launce | Thou shalt never get such a secret from me but by a parable. |
Speed | ’Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how sayest thou, that my master is become a notable lover? |
Launce | I never knew him otherwise. |
Speed | Than how? |
Launce | A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be. |
Speed | Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistakest me. |
Launce | Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy master. |
Speed | I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover. |
Launce | Why, I tell thee, I care not though he burn himself in love. If thou wilt, go with me to the alehouse; if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian. |
Speed | Why? |
Launce | Because thou hast not so much charity in thee as to go to the ale with a Christian. Wilt thou go? |
Speed | At thy service. Exeunt. |
Scene VI
The same. The Duke’s palace.
Enter Proteus. | |
Proteus |
To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn;
|
Scene VII
Verona. Julia’s house.
Enter Julia and Lucetta. | |
Julia |
Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me;
|
Lucetta | Alas, the way is wearisome and long! |
Julia |
A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary
|
Lucetta | Better forbear till Proteus make return. |
Julia |
O, know’st thou not his looks are my soul’s food?
|
Lucetta |
I do not seek to quench your love’s hot fire,
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Julia |
The more thou damm’st it up, the more it burns.
|
Lucetta | But in what habit will you go along? |
Julia |
Not like a woman; for I would prevent
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Lucetta | Why, then, your ladyship must cut your hair. |
Julia |
No, girl; I’ll knit it up in silken strings
|
Lucetta | What fashion, madam, shall I make your breeches? |
Julia |
That fits as well as “Tell me, good my lord,
|
Lucetta | You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam. |
Julia | Out, out, Lucetta! that would be ill-favour’d. |
Lucetta |
A round hose, madam, now’s not worth a pin,
|
Julia |
Lucetta, as thou lovest me, let me have
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Lucetta | If you think so, then stay at home and go not. |
Julia | Nay, that I will not. |
Lucetta |
Then never dream on infamy, but go.
|
Julia |
That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear:
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Lucetta | All these are servants to deceitful men. |
Julia |
Base men, that use them to so base effect!
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Lucetta | Pray heaven he prove so, when you come to him! |
Julia |
Now, as thou lovest me, do him not that wrong
|