 | The Two Gentlemen of Verona |  |
Actus secundus:
Scœna Prima.
Enter Valentine, Speed, Siluia.Speed.
Sir, your Gloue.
Valen.
Not mine: my Gloues are on.
Sp.
Why then this may be yours: for this is but one.
Ual.
Ha? Let me see: I, giue it me, it's mine:
Sweet Ornament, that deckes a thing diuine,
Ah Siluia, Siluia.
Speed.
Madam Siluia: Madam Siluia.
Val.
How now Sirha?
Speed.
Shee is not within hearing Sir.
Val.
Why sir, who bad you call her?
Speed.
Your worship sir, or else I mistooke.
Val.
Well: you'll still be too forward.
Speed.
And yet I was last chidden for being too slow.
Val.
Goe to, sir, tell me: do you know Madam Siluia?
Speed.
Shee that your worship loues?
Val.
Why, how know you that I am in loue?
Speed.
Marry by these speciall markes: first, you haue
learn'd (like Sir Protheus) to wreath your Armes like a
Male-content: to rellish a Loue-song, like a Robin-redbreast:
to walke alone like one that had the pestilence:
to sigh, like a Schoole-boy that had lost his A. B. C. to
weep like a yong wench that had buried her Grandam:
to fast, like one that takes diet: to watch, like one that
feares robbing: to speake puling, like a beggar at Hallow-Masse:
You were wont, when you laughed, to crow
like a cocke; when you walk'd, to walke like one of the
Lions: when you fasted, it was presently after dinner:
when you look'd sadly, it was for want of money: And
now you are Metamorphis'd with a Mistris, that when I
looke on you, I can hardly thinke you my Master.
Val.
Are all these things perceiu'd in me?
Speed.
They are all perceiu'd without ye.
Val.
Without me? they cannot.
Speed.
Without you? nay, that's certaine: 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 Vrinall: that
not an eye that sees you, but is a Physician to comment
on your Malady.
Val.
But tell me: do'st thou know my Lady Siluia?
Speed.
Shee that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper?
Val.
Hast thou obseru'd that? euen she I meane.
Speed.
Why sir, I know her not.
Val.
Do'st thou know her by my gazing on her, and
yet know'st her not?
Speed.
Is she not hard-fauour'd, sir?
Val.
Not so faire (boy) as well fauour'd.
Speed.
Sir, I know that well enough.
Ual.
What dost thou know?
Speed.
That shee is not so faire, as (of you) well-fauourd?
Val.
I meane that her beauty is exquisite,
But her fauour 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 faire, that no
man counts of her beauty.
Val.
How esteem'st thou me? I account of her beauty.
Speed.
You neuer saw her since she was deform'd.
Ual.
How long hath she beene deform'd?
Speed.
Euer since you lou'd her.
Val.
I haue lou'd her euer since I saw her,
And still I see her beautifull.
Speed.
If you loue her, you cannot see her.
Ual.
Why?
Speed.
Because Loue is blinde: O that you had mine
eyes, or your owne eyes had the lights they were wont
to haue, when you chidde at Sir Protheus, for going vngarter'd.
Val.
What should I see then?
Speed.
Your owne present folly, and her passing deformitie:
for hee beeing in loue, could not see to garter
his hose; and you, beeing in loue, cannot see to put on
your hose.
Val.
Belike (boy) then you are in loue, for last morning
You could not see to wipe my shooes.
Speed.
True sir: I was in loue with my bed, I thanke
you, you swing'd me for my loue, which makes mee the
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?
Ual.
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 Clerkly-done.
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 yt haue the reason.
Val.
To doe what?
Speed.
To be a Spokes-man from Madam Siluia.
Ual.
To whom?
Speed.
To your selfe: why, she woes you by a figure.
Val.
What figure?
Speed.
By a Letter, I should say.
Ual.
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?
Ual.
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 yt 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 messēger, yt 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.
Ual.
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.
Scœna 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.
Scœna 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
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 Nun 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.
Panth.
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?
Ual.
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, gentlemē, & 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?
Ual.
I, my good Lord, a Son, that well deserues
The honor, and regard of such a father.
Duk.
You know him well?
Ual.
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.)
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.
Ual.
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 Ualentine, 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?
Ual.
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 yt 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.
Ual.
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 thē much cōmended.
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.
Ual.
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 Ualentine, 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?
Exit.
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,
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.
Laun.
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 gone with me to the Ale-house:
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.
Scœna 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 Ualentine 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.
Exit.
Scœna 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 yu 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, sit 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 thē with a cod-peece (Madam)
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.
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.
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