not now, 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 't is I love, and yet 't is a woman: but that woman, I will not tell myself; and yet 't is a milkmaid; yet 't is not a maid, for she hath had gossips: yet 't is 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. Here is the cat-log [pulling out a paper] of her conditions. Imprimis, She can fetch and carry. Why, a horse 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 mastership. Laun. 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? Laun. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st. Laun. Why, as black as ink. Laun. Fye on thee, jolt-head; thou canst not read. Speed. Thou liest, I can. Laxn. I will try thee: Tell me this: Who begot thee? Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather. Laun. 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. Speed. Item, She brews good ale. Laun. And thereof comes the proverb, 'Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale!" Speed. Item, She can sew. Laun. That's as much as to say, Can she so? Speed. Item, She can knit. Laun. What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when she can knit him a stock? Speed. Item, She can wash and scour. Laun. A special virtue; for then she need not be washed and scoured. Speed. Item, She can spin. Laun. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living. Speed. Item, She hath many nameless virtues. Laun. 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. Laun. Close at the heels of her virtues. Speed. Item, She is not to be kissed fasting, in respect of her breath. Laun. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast: Read on. Speed. Item, She hath a sweet mouth. Laun. That makes amends for her sour breath. Speed. Item, She doth talk in her sleep. Laun. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk. Speed. Item, She is slow in words. Laun. O villain, that set this down among her vices! To 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. Laun. Out with that too; it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her. Speed. Item, She hath no teeth. Laun. I care not for that neither, because I love crusts. Speed. Item, She is curst. Laun. Well; the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. Speed. She will often praise her liquor. Laun. 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. Laun. Of her tongue she cannot; for that's writ down she is slow of: of her purse she shall not; for that I'll keep shut: now of another thing she may; and that I cannot help. Well, proceed. Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults. Laun. Stop there; I'll have her; she was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that last article; Rehearse that once more. Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit, Laun. More hair than wit,-it may be; I'll prove it: The cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it 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,— Laun. 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. Laun. Now will he be swinged for reading my letter: An unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into secrets!-I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction. [Exit. SCENE II. The same. A room in the DUKE'S Palace. Enter DUKE and THURIO; PROTEUS behind. Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love you, Now Valentine is banished from her sight. Thu. Since his exile she hath despised me most, Forsworn my company, and railed at me, That I am desperate of obtaining her. Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure Trenchéd in ice; which with an hour's heat Dissolves to water, and doth lose his form. A little time will melt her frozen thoughts, And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.— How now, Sir Proteus? Is your countryman, According to our proclamation, gone? Pro. Gone, my good lord. Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously. Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief. Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so. Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee (For thou hast shewn some sign of good desert) Makes me the better to confer with thee. Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your grace, Let me not live to look upon your grace. Duke. Thou know'st how willingly I would effect The match between Sir Thurio and my daughter. Pro. do, my lord, Duke. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant How she opposes her against my will. Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here. Duke. Ay, and perversely she persévers so. What might we do, to make the girl forget The love of Valentine, and love Sir Thurio? Pro. The best way is, to slander Valentine With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent; Three things that women highly hold in hate. Duke. Ay, but she'll think that it is spoke in hate. Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it: Therefore it must, with circumstance, be spoken By one whom she esteemeth as his friend. Duke. Then you must undertake to slander him. Pro. And that, my lord, I shall be loth to do: 'Tis an ill office for a gentleman; Especially against his very friend. Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage him, Your slander never can endamage him; As And cannot soon revolt and change your mind. Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect:- poesy. Pro. Say, that upon the altar of her beauty You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart; Write till your ink be dry; and with your tears Moist it again; and frame some feeling line, That may discover such integrity: For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews; Duke. This discipline shews thou hast been in love. To sort some gentlemen well skilled in music: Pro. We'll wait upon your grace till after supper: [Exeunt. SCENE I-A Forest, near Mantua. Enter certain Outlaws. ACT IV 1st Out. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so : But were you banished for so small a fault? Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doom. 1st Out. Have you the tongues? Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy; Or else I often had been miserable. 3rd Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar, This fellow were a king for our wild faction. It is an honourable kind of thievery. 2nd Out. Tell us this: Have you anything to take to? Val. Nothing, but my fortune. 3rd Out. Know then, that some of us are gentle men, Such as the fury of ungoverned youth 2nd Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Whom, in my mood, I stabbed unto the heart. 1st Out. And I, for such like petty crimes as these. But to the purpose,-for we cite our faults, 2nd Out. Indeed, because you are a banished man, Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you: Are you content to be our general? To make a virtue of necessity, And live, as we do, in this wilderness? 3rd Out. What say'st thou? wilt thou be of our consórt? Say, ay, and be the captain of us all : 1st Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. 2nd Out. Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offered. Val. I take your offer, and will live with you; Provided that you do no outrages On silly women, or poor passengers. 3rd Out. No, we detest such vile base practices. Come, go with us, we 'll bring thee to our crews, And shew thee all the treasures we have got; Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine, She twits me with my falsehood to my friend: dow, And give some evening music to her ear. Enter THURIO and Musicians. Thu. How now, Sir Proteus? are you crept before us? Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio; for you know that love Will creep in service where it cannot go. Thu. Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here. Pro. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence. Thu. Whom? Silvia? Pro. Ay, Silvia,—for your sake. Thu. I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen, Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile. Enter Host, at a distance; and JULIA, in boy's clothes. Host. Now, my young guest! methinks you're allycholly: I pray you, why is it? Who is Silvia? what is she, That all our swains commend her? Holy, fair, and wise is she, The heavens such grace did lend her, That she might admired be. Is she kind, as she is fair? For beauty lives with kindness: To help him of his blindness; Host. How now? are you sadder than you were before? How do you, man? the music likes you not. Jul. You mistake; the musician likes me not. Host. Why, my pretty youth? Jul. He plays false, father. Host. How? out of tune on the strings? Jul. Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my very heart-strings. Host. You have a quick ear. Jul. Ay, I would I were deaf! it makes me have a slow heart. Host. I perceive you delight not in music. Jul. Not a whit, when it jars so. Host. Hark, what fine change is in the music! Jul. Ay! that change is the spite. Host. You would have them always play but one thing! Jul. I would always have one play but one thing. But, host, doth this Sir Proteus, that we talk on, often resort unto this gentlewoman? Host. I tell you what Launce, his man, told me; he loved her out of all nick. Jul. Where is Launce? Host. Gone to seek his dog; which, to-morrow, by his master's command, he must carry for a present to his lady. Jul. Peace! stand aside! the company parts. Pro. Sir Thurio, fear not you! I will so plead, That you shall say, my cunning drift excels. Thu. Where meet we? Pro. At St. Gregory's well. Thu. Farewell. [Exeunt THURIO and Musicians. SILVIA appears above, at her window. Pro. Madam, good even to your ladyship. Sil. I thank you for your music, gentlemen: Who is that, that spake? Pro. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth, You'd quickly learn to know him by his voice. Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. Pro. That I may compass yours. Sil. You have your wish; my will is even this,- That hast deceived so many with thy vows? Jul. T were false, if I should speak it; [Aside. Sil. Say that she be; yet Valentine, thy friend, Survives; to whom, thyself art witness, I am betrothed: And art thou not ashamed Pro. I likewise hear that Valentine is dead. Sil. And so suppose am I; for in his grave Assure thyself my love is buried. Pro. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth. Sil. Go to thy lady's grave, and call her's thence; Or, at least, in her's sepulchre thine. Aside. Jul. He heard not that. Pro. Madam, if your heart be so obdúrate, Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love, The picture that is hanging in your chamber; To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep: For, since the substance of your perfect self Is else devoted, I am but a shadow; And to your shadow I will make true love. Jul. If 't were a substance, you would sure deceive it, And make it but a shadow, as I am. [Aside. Sil. I am very loth to be your idol, sir; Egl. As many, worthy lady, to yourself. I am thus early come, to know what service Sil. O, Eglamour, thou art a gentleman! plagues. |