But now I worship a celestial sun. Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken, But there I leave to love where I should love. If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; For love is still most precious in itself; And Silvia-witness Heaven, that made her fair! Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope. I will forget that Julia is alive, Remembering that my love to her is dead; And Valentine I'll hold an enemy, Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend. I cannot now prove constant to myself, Enter JULIA and LUCETTA. Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me; Luc. Alas, the way is wearisome and long! To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps; Of such divine perfection as Sir Proteus. Luc. Better forbear till Proteus make return. Jul. O, know'st thou not his looks are my soul's food? Pity the dearth that I have pined in, By longing for that food so long a time. Didst thou but know the inly touch of love, Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow As seek to quench the fire of love with words. Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire, But qualify the fire's extreme rage, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. Jul. The more thou damm'st it up, the more it burns. Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage; He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones, He overtaketh in his pilgrimage, And so by many winding nooks he strays Then let me go and hinder not my course : I'll be as patient as a gentle stream And make a pastime of each weary step, Till the last step have brought me to my love; A blessed soul doth in Elysium. Luc. But in what habit will you go along? 40 The loose encounters of lascivious men : Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds As may beseem some well-reputed page. Luc. Why, then, your ladyship must cut your hair. With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots. To be fantastic may become a youth Of greater time than I shall show to be. Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your breeches? What compass will you wear your farthingale?” 50 Luc. You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam. Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd. Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin, Unless you have a codpiece to stick pins on. Jul. Lucetta, as thou lovest me, let me have Luc. If you think so, then stay at home and go not. Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go. I fear me, he will scarce be pleased withal. Warrant me welcome to my Proteus. Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men. But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth; 60 70 His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate, His tears pure messengers sent from his heart, His heart as far from fraud as heaven from earth. Luc. Pray heaven he prove so, when you come to him! To bear a hard opinion of his truth: ACT III. 80 [Excunt. 90 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 Thu. Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me? Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would discover The law of friendship bids me to conceal ; My duty pricks me on to utter that Which else no worldly good should draw from me. I know you have determined to bestow her A pack of sorrows which would press you down, Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care; Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devised a mean How he her chamber- window will ascend 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. For love of you, not hate unto my friend, Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never know That I had any light from thee of this. Pro. Adieu, my Lord; Sir Valentine is coming. Enter VALENTINE. Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? 10 20 30 40 50 [Exit. Val. Please it your grace, there is a messenger Duke. Be they of much import? Val. The tenour of them doth but signify My health and happy being at your court. Duke. Nay then, no matter; stay with me awhile; That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret. 60 I am to break with thee of some affairs 'Tis not unknown to thee that I have sought To match my friend Sir Thurio to my daughter. Val. I know it well, my Lord; and sure the match Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward, Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her; And, where I thought the remnant of mine age Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty, 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. Val. What would your Grace have me to do in this? 80 Duke. There is a lady in Milano 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 For long agone I have forgot to court; Besides, the fashion of the time is changed- How and which way I may bestow myself Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words: Dumb jewels often in their silent kind 90 More than quick words do move a woman's mind. Val. A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her. Send her another; never give her o'er; For scorn at first makes after-love the more. If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you, If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone; |