THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA DRAMATIS PERSONAE SCENE Verona; Milan; the frontiers of Mantua. ACT I SCENE I Verona. An open place. [Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS] VALENTINE Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus: Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits. Were't not affection chains thy tender days To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love, I rather would entreat thy company To see the wonders of the world abroad, Than, living dully sluggardized at home, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness. But since thou lovest, love still and thrive therein, Even as I would when I to love begin. PROTEUS Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu! Think on thy Proteus, 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 prayers, For I will be thy beadsman, Valentine. VALENTINE And on a love-book pray for my success? PROTEUS Upon some book I love I'll pray for thee. VALENTINE That's on some shallow story of deep love: How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont. PROTEUS That's a deep story of a deeper love: For he was more than over shoes in love. VALENTINE 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love, And yet you never swum the Hellespont. PROTEUS Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots. VALENTINE No, I will not, for it boots thee not. PROTEUS What? VALENTINE To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans; Coy looks with heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights: If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain; If lost, why then a grievous labour won; However, but a folly bought with wit, Or else a wit by folly vanquished. PROTEUS So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. VALENTINE So, by your circumstance, I fear you'll prove. PROTEUS 'Tis love you cavil at: I am not Love. VALENTINE Love is your master, for he masters you: And he that is so yoked by a fool, Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise. PROTEUS Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud The eating canker dwells, so eating love Inhabits in the finest wits of all. VALENTINE 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 to fond desire? Once more adieu! my father at the road Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd. PROTEUS And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. VALENTINE Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave. To 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 likewise will visit thee with mine. PROTEUS All happiness bechance to thee in Milan! VALENTINE As much to you at home! and so, farewell. [Exit] PROTEUS 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 metamorphosed 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 Proteus, save you! Saw you my master? PROTEUS But now he parted hence, to embark for Milan. SPEED Twenty to one then he is shipp'd already, And I have play'd the sheep in losing him. PROTEUS Indeed, a sheep doth very often stray, An if the shepherd be a while away. SPEED You conclude that my master is a shepherd, then, and I a sheep? PROTEUS I do. SPEED Why then, my horns are his horns, whether I wake or sleep. PROTEUS A silly answer and fitting well a sheep. SPEED This proves me still a sheep. PROTEUS True; and thy master a shepherd. SPEED Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance. PROTEUS 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 my master seeks not me: therefore I am no sheep. PROTEUS The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd; the shepherd for food follows not the sheep: thou for wages followest thy master; thy master for wages follows not thee: therefore thou art a sheep. SPEED Such another proof will make me cry 'baa.' PROTEUS But, dost thou hear? gavest thou my letter to Julia? SPEED Ay sir: I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, a laced mutton, and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a lost mutton, nothing for my labour. PROTEUS Here's too small a pasture for such store of muttons. SPEED If the ground be overcharged, you were best stick her. PROTEUS Nay: in that you are astray, 'twere best pound you. SPEED Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your letter. PROTEUS You mistake; I mean the pound,--a pinfold. SPEED From a pound to a pin? fold it over and over, 'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover. PROTEUS But what said she? SPEED [First nodding] Ay. PROTEUS Nod--Ay--why, that's noddy. SPEED You mistook, sir; I say, she did nod: and you ask me if she did nod; and I say, 'Ay.' PROTEUS And that set together is noddy. SPEED Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for your pains. PROTEUS No, no; you shall have it for bearing the letter. SPEED Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you. PROTEUS Why sir, how do you bear with me? SPEED Marry, sir, the letter, very orderly; having nothing but the word 'noddy' for my pains. PROTEUS Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit. SPEED And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse. PROTEUS Come come, open the matter in brief: what said she? SPEED Open your purse, that the money and the matter may be both at once delivered. PROTEUS Well, sir, here is for your pains. What said she? SPEED Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her. PROTEUS Why, couldst thou perceive so much from her? SPEED Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no, not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter: and being so hard to me that brought your mind, I fear she'll prove as hard to you in telling your mind. Give her no token but stones; for she's as hard as steel. PROTEUS What said she? nothing? SPEED No, not so much as 'Take this for thy pains.' To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testerned me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself: and so, sir, I'll commend you to my master. PROTEUS Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wreck, Which cannot perish having thee aboard, Being destined to a drier death on shore. [Exit SPEED] I must go send some better messenger: I fear my Julia would not deign my lines, Receiving them from such a worthless post. [Exit] THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA ACT I SCENE II The same. Garden of JULIA's house. [Enter JULlA and LUCETTA] JULIA But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love? LUCETTA Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheedfully. JULIA Of all the fair resort of gentlemen That every day with parle encounter me, In thy opinion which is worthiest love? LUCETTA Please you repeat their names, I'll show my mind According to my shallow simple skill. JULIA What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour? LUCETTA As of a knight well-spoken, neat and fine; But, were I you, he never should be mine. JULIA What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio? LUCETTA Well of his wealth; but of himself, so so. JULIA What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus? LUCETTA Lord, Lord! to see what folly reigns in us! JULIA How now! what means this passion at his name? LUCETTA Pardon, dear madam: 'tis a passing shame That I, unworthy body as I am, Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen. JULIA Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest? LUCETTA Then thus: of many good I think him best. JULIA Your reason? LUCETTA I have no other, but a woman's reason; I think him so because I think him so. JULIA And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him? LUCETTA Ay, if you thought your love not cast away. JULIA Why he, of all the rest, hath never moved me. LUCETTA Yet he, of all the rest, I think, best loves ye. JULIA His little speaking shows his love but small. LUCETTA Fire that's closest kept burns most of all. JULIA They do not love that do not show their love. LUCETTA O, they love least that let men know their love. JULIA I would I knew his mind. LUCETTA Peruse this paper, madam. JULIA 'To Julia.' Say, from whom? LUCETTA That the contents will show. JULIA Say, say, who gave it thee? LUCETTA Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from Proteus. He would have given it you; but I, being in the way, Did in your name receive it: pardon the fault I pray. JULIA Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker! Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines? To whisper and conspire against my youth? Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth And you an officer fit for the place. Or else return no more into my sight. LUCETTA To plead for love deserves more fee than hate. JULIA Will ye be gone? LUCETTA That you may ruminate. [Exit] JULIA And yet I would I had o'erlooked the letter: It were a shame to call her back again And pray her to a fault for which I chid her. What a fool is she, that knows I am a maid, And would not force the letter to my view! Since maids, in modesty, say 'no' to that Which they would have the profferer construe 'ay.' 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! How angerly I taught my brow to frown, When inward joy enforced my heart to smile! My penance is to call Lucetta back And ask remission for my folly past. What ho! Lucetta! [Re-enter LUCETTA] LUCETTA What would your ladyship? JULIA Is't near dinner-time? LUCETTA I would it were, That you might kill your stomach on your meat And not upon your maid. JULIA What is't that you took up so gingerly? LUCETTA Nothing. JULIA Why didst thou stoop, then? LUCETTA To take a paper up that I let fall. JULIA And is that paper nothing? LUCETTA Nothing concerning me. JULIA Then let it lie for those that it concerns. LUCETTA Madam, it will not lie where it concerns Unless it have a false interpeter. JULIA Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme. LUCETTA That I might sing it, madam, to a tune. Give me a note: your ladyship can set. JULIA As little by such toys as may be possible. Best sing it to the tune of 'Light o' love.' LUCETTA It is too heavy for so light a tune. JULIA Heavy! belike it hath some burden then? LUCETTA Ay, and melodious were it, would you sing it. JULIA And why not you? LUCETTA I cannot reach so high. JULIA Let's see your song. How now, minion! LUCETTA Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out: And yet methinks I do not like this tune. JULIA You do not? LUCETTA No, madam; it is too sharp. JULIA You, minion, are too saucy. LUCETTA Nay, now you are too flat And mar the concord with too harsh a descant: There wanteth but a mean to fill your song. JULIA The mean is drown'd with your unruly bass. LUCETTA Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus. JULIA This babble shall not henceforth trouble me. Here is a coil with protestation! [Tears the letter] Go get you gone, and let the papers lie: You would be fingering them, to anger me. LUCETTA She makes it strange; but she would be best pleased To be so anger'd with another letter. [Exit] JULIA Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same! 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.' Unkind Julia! As in revenge of thy ingratitude, I throw thy name against the bruising stones, Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain. And here is writ 'love-wounded Proteus.' Poor wounded name! my bosom as a bed Shall lodge thee till thy wound be thoroughly heal'd; And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss. But twice or thrice was 'Proteus' written down. Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away Till I have found each letter in the letter, Except mine own name: that some whirlwind bear Unto a ragged fearful-hanging rock And throw it thence into the raging sea! Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ, 'Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus, To the sweet Julia:' that I'll tear away. And yet I will not, sith so prettily He couples it to his complaining names. Thus will I fold them one on another: Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will. [Re-enter LUCETTA] LUCETTA Madam, Dinner is ready, and your father stays. JULIA Well, let us go. LUCETTA What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here? JULIA If you respect them, best to take them up. LUCETTA Nay, I was taken up for laying them down: Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold. JULIA I see you have a month's mind to them. LUCETTA Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see; I see things too, although you judge I wink. JULIA Come, come; will't please you go? [Exeunt] THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA ACT I SCENE III The same. ANTONIO's house. [Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO] ANTONIO Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? PANTHINO 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. ANTONIO Why, what of him? PANTHINO He wonder'd 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 Proteus 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. ANTONIO 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 tried and tutor'd in the world: Experience is by industry achieved And perfected by the swift course of time. Then tell me, whither were I best to send him? PANTHINO I think your lordship is not ignorant How his companion, youthful Valentine, Attends the emperor in his royal court. ANTONIO I know it well. PANTHINO 'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither: There shall he practise tilts and tournaments, Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen. And be in eye of every exercise Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth. ANTONIO I like thy counsel; well hast thou advised: And that thou mayst perceive how well I like it, The execution of it shall make known. Even with the speediest expedition I will dispatch him to the emperor's court. PANTHINO To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso, With other gentlemen of good esteem, Are journeying to salute the emperor And to commend their service to his will. ANTONIO Good company; with them shall Proteus go: And, in good time! now will we break with him. [Enter PROTEUS] PROTEUS 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. O, that our fathers would applaud our loves, To seal our happiness with their consents! O heavenly Julia! ANTONIO How now! what letter are you reading there? PROTEUS May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two Of commendations sent from Valentine, Deliver'd by a friend that came from him. ANTONIO Lend me the letter; let me see what news. PROTEUS There is no news, my lord, but that he writes How happily he lives, how well beloved And daily graced by the emperor; Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune. ANTONIO And how stand you affected to his wish? PROTEUS As one relying on your lordship's will And not depending on his friendly wish. ANTONIO My will is something sorted with his wish. Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed; For what I will, I will, and there an end. I am resolved that thou shalt spend some time With Valentinus in the emperor's court: 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. PROTEUS My lord, I cannot be so soon provided: Please you, deliberate a day or two. ANTONIO Look, what thou want'st shall be sent after thee: No more of stay! to-morrow thou must go. Come on, Panthino: you shall be employ'd To hasten on his expedition. [Exeunt ANTONIO and PANTHINO] PROTEUS Thus have I shunn'd the fire for fear of burning, And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd. I fear'd to show 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 The uncertain glory of an April day, Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away! [Re-enter PANTHINO] PANTHINO Sir Proteus, your father calls for you: He is in haste; therefore, I pray you to go. PROTEUS Why, this it is: my heart accords thereto, And yet a thousand times it answers 'no.' [Exeunt] 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: Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine! Ah, Silvia, Silvia! 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 Unto the secret nameless friend of yours; Which I was much unwilling to proceed in But for my duty to your ladyship. SILVIA I thank you gentle servant: 'tis very clerkly done. VALENTINE Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off; For being ignorant to whom it goes I writ at random, very doubtfully. SILVIA Perchance you think too much of so much pains? VALENTINE No, madam; so it stead you, I will write Please you command, a thousand times as much; And yet-- SILVIA 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 [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; But since unwillingly, take them again. Nay, take them. VALENTINE Madam, they are for you. SILVIA 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. VALENTINE Please you, I'll write your ladyship another. SILVIA And when it's writ, for my sake read it over, And if it please you, so; if not, why, so. VALENTINE If it please me, madam, what then? SILVIA Why, if it please you, take it for your labour: And so, good morrow, servant. [Exit] SPEED O jest unseen, inscrutable, 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 suitor, He being her pupil, to become her tutor. O excellent device! was there ever heard a better, That my master, being scribe, to himself should write the letter? 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 for 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: 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, Herself 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. 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] THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA ACT II 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. Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake. [Giving a ring] 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; And when that hour o'erslips me in the day Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake, 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. Julia, farewell! [Exit JULIA] 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 PANTHINO] PANTHINO Sir Proteus, you are stay'd for. PROTEUS Go; I come, I come. Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb. [Exeunt] THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA ACT II 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] THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA ACT II 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. Sir Valentine, your father's in good health: What say you to a letter from your friends Of much good news? VALENTINE My lord, I will be thankful. To any happy messenger from thence. DUKE Know ye Don Antonio, your countryman? VALENTINE 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? VALENTINE Ay, my good lord; a son that well deserves The honour and regard of such a father. DUKE You know him well? VALENTINE I know him as myself; for from our infancy We have conversed and spent our hours together: And though myself have been an idle truant, Omitting the sweet benefit of time To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection, Yet hath Sir Proteus, 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 Comes all the praises that I now bestow, He is complete 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 awhile: I think 'tis no unwelcome news to you. VALENTINE 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] VALENTINE This is the gentleman I told your ladyship Had come along with me, but that his mistress Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks. SILVIA Belike that now she hath enfranchised them Upon some other pawn for fealty. VALENTINE Nay, sure, I think she holds them prisoners still. SILVIA Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind How could he see his way to seek out you? 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: Upon a homely object Love can wink. SILVIA Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman. [Exit THURIO] [Enter PROTEUS] VALENTINE Welcome, dear Proteus! Mistress, I beseech you, Confirm his welcome with some special favour. SILVIA His worth is warrant for his welcome hither, If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from. VALENTINE Mistress, it is: sweet lady, entertain him To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship. SILVIA Too low a mistress for so high a servant. PROTEUS Not so, sweet lady: but too mean a servant To have a look of such a worthy mistress. VALENTINE Leave off discourse of disability: Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant. PROTEUS My duty will I boast of; nothing else. SILVIA And duty never yet did want his meed: Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress. 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, 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. 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; I know you joy not in a love discourse. VALENTINE Ay, Proteus, 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 chased sleep from my enthralled eyes And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow. O gentle Proteus, Love's a mighty lord, And hath so humbled me, as, I confess, There is no woe 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. PROTEUS Enough; I read your fortune in your eye. Was this the idol that you worship so? 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, And I must minister the like to you. VALENTINE Then speak the truth by her; if not divine, Yet let her be a principality, Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth. PROTEUS Except my mistress. VALENTINE Sweet, except not any; Except thou wilt except against my love. PROTEUS Have I not reason to prefer mine own? VALENTINE And I will help thee to prefer her too: She shall be dignified 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. PROTEUS Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this? VALENTINE Pardon me, Proteus: all I can is nothing To her whose worth makes other worthies nothing; She is alone. PROTEUS Then let her alone. VALENTINE 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 rocks pure gold. Forgive me that I do not dream on thee, Because thou see'st me dote 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 jealousy. PROTEUS But she loves you? VALENTINE Ay, and we are betroth'd: nay, more, our, marriage-hour, With all the cunning manner of our flight, Determined of; how I must climb her window, The ladder made of cords, and all the means Plotted and 'greed on for my happiness. Good Proteus, go with me to my chamber, In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel. PROTEUS Go on before; I shall inquire you forth: I must unto the road, to disembark Some necessaries that I needs must use, And then I'll presently attend you. VALENTINE Will you make haste? PROTEUS I will. [Exit VALENTINE] 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, or Valentine'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 dote on her with more advice, That thus without advice begin to love her! 'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld, And that hath dazzled my reason's light; But when I look on her perfections, There is no reason but I shall be blind. If I can cheque my erring love, I will; If not, to compass her I'll use my skill. [Exit]