The Two Gentlemen of Verona

The Two Gentlemen of Verona

ACT III SCENE I	Milan. The DUKE's palace.
	Enter DUKE, THURIO, and PROTEUS
DUKE	Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile;
	We have some secrets to confer about.
	Exit THURIO
	Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me?
PROTEUS	My gracious lord, that which I would discover	5
	The law of friendship bids me to conceal;
	But when I call to mind your gracious favours
	Done to me, undeserving as I am,
	My duty pricks me on to utter that
	Which else no worldly good should draw from me.	10
	Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine, my friend,
	This night intends to steal away your daughter:
	Myself am one made privy to the plot.
	I know you have determined to bestow her
	On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates;	15
	And should she thus be stol'n away from you,
	It would be much vexation to your age.
	Thus, for my duty's sake, I rather chose
	To cross my friend in his intended drift
	Than, by concealing it, heap on your head	20
	A pack of sorrows which would press you down,
	Being unprevented, to your timeless grave.
DUKE	Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care;
	Which to requite, command me while I live.
	This love of theirs myself have often seen,	25
	Haply when they have judged me fast asleep,
	And oftentimes have purposed to forbid
	Sir Valentine her company and my court:
	But fearing lest my jealous aim might err
	And so unworthily disgrace the man,	30
	A rashness that I ever yet have shunn'd,
	I gave him gentle looks, thereby to find
	That which thyself hast now disclosed to me.
	And, that thou mayst perceive my fear of this,
	Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested,	35
	I nightly lodge her in an upper tower,
	The key whereof myself have ever kept;
	And thence she cannot be convey'd away.
PROTEUS	Know, noble lord, they have devised a mean
	How he her chamber-window will ascend	40
	And with a corded ladder fetch her down;
	For which the youthful lover now is gone
	And this way comes he with it presently;
	Where, if it please you, you may intercept him.
	But, good my Lord, do it so cunningly	45
	That my discovery be not aimed at;
	For love of you, not hate unto my friend,
	Hath made me publisher of this pretence.
DUKE	Upon mine honour, he shall never know
	That I had any light from thee of this.	50
PROTEUS	Adieu, my Lord; Sir Valentine is coming.
	Exit
	Enter VALENTINE
DUKE	Sir Valentine, whither away so fast?
VALENTINE	Please it your grace, there is a messenger
	That stays to bear my letters to my friends,
	And I am going to deliver them.	55
DUKE	Be they of much import?
VALENTINE	The tenor of them doth but signify
	My health and happy being at your court.
DUKE	Nay then, no matter; stay with me awhile;
	I am to break with thee of some affairs	60
	That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret.
	'Tis not unknown to thee that I have sought
	To match my friend Sir Thurio to my daughter.
VALENTINE	I know it well, my Lord; and, sure, the match
	Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentleman	65
	Is full of virtue, bounty, worth and qualities
	Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter:
	Cannot your Grace win her to fancy him?
DUKE	No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward,
	Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty,	70
	Neither regarding that she is my child
	Nor fearing me as if I were her father;
	And, may I say to thee, this pride of hers,
	Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her;
	And, where I thought the remnant of mine age	75
	Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty,
	I now am full resolved to take a wife
	And turn her out to who will take her in:
	Then let her beauty be her wedding-dower;
	For me and my possessions she esteems not.	80
VALENTINE	What would your Grace have me to do in this?
DUKE	There is a lady in Verona here
	Whom I affect; but she is nice and coy
	And nought esteems my aged eloquence:
	Now therefore would I have thee to my tutor--	85
	For long agone I have forgot to court;
	Besides, the fashion of the time is changed--
	How and which way I may bestow myself
	To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.
VALENTINE	Win her with gifts, if she respect not words:	90
	Dumb jewels often in their silent kind
	More than quick words do move a woman's mind.
DUKE	But she did scorn a present that I sent her.
VALENTINE	A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her.
	Send her another; never give her o'er;	95
	For scorn at first makes after-love the more.
	If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
	But rather to beget more love in you:
	If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone;
	For why, the fools are mad, if left alone.	100
	Take no repulse, whatever she doth say;
	For 'get you gone,' she doth not mean 'away!'
	Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces;
	Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces.
	That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man,	105
	If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.
DUKE	But she I mean is promised by her friends
	Unto a youthful gentleman of worth,
	And kept severely from resort of men,
	That no man hath access by day to her.	110
VALENTINE	Why, then, I would resort to her by night.
DUKE	Ay, but the doors be lock'd and keys kept safe,
	That no man hath recourse to her by night.
VALENTINE	What lets but one may enter at her window?
DUKE	Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground,	115
	And built so shelving that one cannot climb it
	Without apparent hazard of his life.
VALENTINE	Why then, a ladder quaintly made of cords,
	To cast up, with a pair of anchoring hooks,
	Would serve to scale another Hero's tower,	120
	So bold Leander would adventure it.
DUKE	Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood,
	Advise me where I may have such a ladder.
VALENTINE	When would you use it? pray, sir, tell me that.
DUKE	This very night; for Love is like a child,	125
	That longs for every thing that he can come by.
VALENTINE	By seven o'clock I'll get you such a ladder.
DUKE	But, hark thee; I will go to her alone:
	How shall I best convey the ladder thither?
VALENTINE	It will be light, my lord, that you may bear it	130
	Under a cloak that is of any length.
DUKE	A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn?
VALENTINE	Ay, my good lord.
DUKE	Then let me see thy cloak:
	I'll get me one of such another length.	135
VALENTINE	Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord.
DUKE	How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak?
	I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.
	What letter is this same? What's here? 'To Silvia'!
	And here an engine fit for my proceeding.	140
	I'll be so bold to break the seal for once.
	Reads
	'My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly,
	And slaves they are to me that send them flying:
	O, could their master come and go as lightly,
	Himself would lodge where senseless they are lying!	145
	My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them:
	While I, their king, that hither them importune,
	Do curse the grace that with such grace hath bless'd them,
	Because myself do want my servants' fortune:
	I curse myself, for they are sent by me,	150
	That they should harbour where their lord would be.'
	What's here?
	'Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee.'
	'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.
	Why, Phaeton,--for thou art Merops' son,--	155
	Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car
	And with thy daring folly burn the world?
	Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee?
	Go, base intruder! overweening slave!
	Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates,	160
	And think my patience, more than thy desert,
	Is privilege for thy departure hence:
	Thank me for this more than for all the favours
	Which all too much I have bestow'd on thee.
	But if thou linger in my territories	165
	Longer than swiftest expedition
	Will give thee time to leave our royal court,
	By heaven! my wrath shall far exceed the love
	I ever bore my daughter or thyself.
	Be gone! I will not hear thy vain excuse;	170
	But, as thou lovest thy life, make speed from hence.
	Exit
VALENTINE	And why not death rather than living torment?
	To die is to be banish'd from myself;
	And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her
	Is self from self: a deadly banishment!	175
	What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
	What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?
	Unless it be to think that she is by
	And feed upon the shadow of perfection
	Except I be by Silvia in the night,	180
	There is no music in the nightingale;
	Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
	There is no day for me to look upon;
	She is my essence, and I leave to be,
	If I be not by her fair influence	185
	Foster'd, illumined, cherish'd, kept alive.
	I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:
	Tarry I here, I but attend on death:
	But, fly I hence, I fly away from life.
	Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE
PROTEUS	Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out.	190
LAUNCE	Soho, soho!
PROTEUS	What seest thou?
LAUNCE	Him we go to find: there's not a hair on's head
	but 'tis a Valentine.
PROTEUS	Valentine?	195
VALENTINE	No.
PROTEUS	Who then? his spirit?
VALENTINE	Neither.
PROTEUS	What then?
VALENTINE	Nothing.	200
LAUNCE	Can nothing speak? Master, shall I strike?
PROTEUS	Who wouldst thou strike?
LAUNCE	Nothing.
PROTEUS	Villain, forbear.
LAUNCE	Why, sir, I'll strike nothing: I pray you,--	205
PROTEUS	Sirrah, I say, forbear. Friend Valentine, a word.
VALENTINE	My ears are stopt and cannot hear good news,
	So much of bad already hath possess'd them.
PROTEUS	Then in dumb silence will I bury mine,
	For they are harsh, untuneable and bad.	210
VALENTINE	Is Silvia dead?
PROTEUS	No, Valentine.
VALENTINE	No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia.
	Hath she forsworn me?
PROTEUS	No, Valentine.	215
VALENTINE	No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me.
	What is your news?
LAUNCE	Sir, there is a proclamation that you are vanished.
PROTEUS	That thou art banished--O, that's the news!--
	From hence, from Silvia and from me thy friend.	220
VALENTINE	O, I have fed upon this woe already,
	And now excess of it will make me surfeit.
	Doth Silvia know that I am banished?
PROTEUS	Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom--
	Which, unreversed, stands in effectual force--	225
	A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears:
	Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd;
	With them, upon her knees, her humble self;
	Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them
	As if but now they waxed pale for woe:	230
	But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
	Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears,
	Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire;
	But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die.
	Besides, her intercession chafed him so,	235
	When she for thy repeal was suppliant,
	That to close prison he commanded her,
	With many bitter threats of biding there.
VALENTINE	No more; unless the next word that thou speak'st
	Have some malignant power upon my life:	240
	If so, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear,
	As ending anthem of my endless dolour.
PROTEUS	Cease to lament for that thou canst not help,
	And study help for that which thou lament'st.
	Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.	245
	Here if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love;
	Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.
	Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that
	And manage it against despairing thoughts.
	Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence;	250
	Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver'd
	Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.
	The time now serves not to expostulate:
	Come, I'll convey thee through the city-gate;
	And, ere I part with thee, confer at large	255
	Of all that may concern thy love-affairs.
	As thou lovest Silvia, though not for thyself,
	Regard thy danger, and along with me!
VALENTINE	I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy,
	Bid him make haste and meet me at the North-gate.	260
PROTEUS	Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine.
VALENTINE	O my dear Silvia! Hapless Valentine!
	Exeunt VALENTINE and PROTEUS
LAUNCE	I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to
	think my master is a kind of a knave: but that's
	all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now	265
	that knows me to be in love; yet I am in love; but a
	team of horse shall not pluck that from me; nor who
	'tis I love; and yet 'tis a woman; but what woman, I
	will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milkmaid; yet
	'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips; yet 'tis	270
	a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for
	wages. She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel;
	which is much in a bare Christian.
	Pulling out a paper
	Here is the cate-log of her condition.
	'Imprimis: She can fetch and carry.' Why, a horse	275
	can do no more: nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only
	carry; therefore is she better than a jade. 'Item:
	She can milk;' look you, a sweet virtue in a maid
	with clean hands.
	Enter SPEED
SPEED	How now, Signior Launce! what news with your	280
	mastership?
LAUNCE	With my master's ship? why, it is at sea.
SPEED	Well, your old vice still; mistake the word. What
	news, then, in your paper?
LAUNCE	The blackest news that ever thou heardest.	285
SPEED	Why, man, how black?
LAUNCE	Why, as black as ink.
SPEED	Let me read them.
LAUNCE	Fie on thee, jolt-head! thou canst not read.
SPEED	Thou liest; I can.	290
LAUNCE	I will try thee. Tell me this: who begot thee?
SPEED	Marry, the son of my grandfather.
LAUNCE	O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy
	grandmother: this proves that thou canst not read.
SPEED	Come, fool, come; try me in thy paper.	295
LAUNCE	There; and St. Nicholas be thy speed!
SPEED	Reads
LAUNCE	Ay, that she can.
SPEED	'Item: She brews good ale.'
LAUNCE	And thereof comes the proverb: 'Blessing of your
	heart, you brew good ale.'	300
SPEED	'Item: She can sew.'
LAUNCE	That's as much as to say, Can she so?
SPEED	'Item: She can knit.'
LAUNCE	What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when
	she can knit him a stock?	305
SPEED	'Item: She can wash and scour.'
LAUNCE	A special virtue: for then she need not be washed
	and scoured.
SPEED	'Item: She can spin.'
LAUNCE	Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can	310
	spin for her living.
SPEED	'Item: She hath many nameless virtues.'
LAUNCE	That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that,
	indeed, know not their fathers and therefore have no names.
SPEED	'Here follow her vices.'	315
LAUNCE	Close at the heels of her virtues.
SPEED	'Item: She is not to be kissed fasting in respect
	of her breath.'
LAUNCE	Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast. Read on.
SPEED	'Item: She hath a sweet mouth.'	320
LAUNCE	That makes amends for her sour breath.
SPEED	'Item: She doth talk in her sleep.'
LAUNCE	It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk.
SPEED	'Item: She is slow in words.'
LAUNCE	O villain, that set this down among her vices! To	325
	be slow in words is a woman's only virtue: I pray
	thee, out with't, and place it for her chief virtue.
SPEED	'Item: She is proud.'
LAUNCE	Out with that too; it was Eve's legacy, and cannot
	be ta'en from her.	330
SPEED	'Item: She hath no teeth.'
LAUNCE	I care not for that neither, because I love crusts.
SPEED	'Item: She is curst.'
LAUNCE	Well, the best is, she hath no teeth to bite.
SPEED	'Item: She will often praise her liquor.'	335
LAUNCE	If her liquor be good, she shall: if she will not, I
	will; for good things should be praised.
SPEED	'Item: She is too liberal.'
LAUNCE	Of her tongue she cannot, for that's writ down she
	is slow of; of her purse she shall not, for that	340
	I'll keep shut: now, of another thing she may, and
	that cannot I help. Well, proceed.
SPEED	'Item: She hath more hair than wit, and more faults
	than hairs, and more wealth than faults.'
LAUNCE	Stop there; I'll have her: she was mine, and not	345
	mine, twice or thrice in that last article.
	Rehearse that once more.
SPEED	'Item: She hath more hair than wit,'--
LAUNCE	More hair than wit? It may be; I'll prove it. The
	cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it	350
	is more than the salt; the hair that covers the wit
	is more than the wit, for the greater hides the
	less. What's next?
SPEED	'And more faults than hairs,'--
LAUNCE	That's monstrous: O, that that were out!	355
SPEED	'And more wealth than faults.'
LAUNCE	Why, that word makes the faults gracious. Well,
	I'll have her; and if it be a match, as nothing is
	impossible,--
SPEED	What then?	360
LAUNCE	Why, then will I tell thee--that thy master stays
	for thee at the North-gate.
SPEED	For me?
LAUNCE	For thee! ay, who art thou? he hath stayed for a
	better man than thee.	365
SPEED	And must I go to him?
LAUNCE	Thou must run to him, for thou hast stayed so long
	that going will scarce serve the turn.
SPEED	Why didst not tell me sooner? pox of your love letters!
	Exit
LAUNCE	Now will he be swinged for reading my letter; an	370
	unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into
	secrets! I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction.
	Exit