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Sil. Servant!

Val. Mistress?

Speed. Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you.

Val. Ay, boy, it’s for love.

5 Speed. Not of you.

Val. Of my mistress, then.

Speed. ’Twere good you knocked him. Exit.

Sil. Servant, you are sad.

Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so.

10 Thu. Seem you that you are not?

Val. Haply I do.

Thu. So do counterfeits.

Val. So do you.

Thu. What seem I that I am not?

15 Val. Wise.

Thu. What instance of the contrary?

Val. Your folly.

Thu. And how quote you my folly?

Val. I quote it in your jerkin.

20 Thu. My jerkin is a doublet.

Val. Well, then, I’ll double your folly.

Thu. How?

Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio! do you change colour?

Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of chameleon.

II. 4.
25 Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood than live in your air.

Val. You have said, sir.

Thu. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time.

Val. I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin.

30 Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off.

Val. ’Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver.

Sil. Who is that, servant?

Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire. Sir 35 Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship’s looks, and spends what he borrows 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 have an exchequer of 40 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.

Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more:—here comes my father.

45 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?

To any happy messenger from thence.

II. 4.
50 Duke. Know ye Don Antonio, your countryman?

Val. 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?

55 Val. Ay, my good lord; a son that well deserves

The honour and regard of such a father.

Duke. You know him well?

Val. I know him as myself; for from our infancy

We have conversed and spent our hours together:

60 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;

65 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

70 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,

II. 4.
75 With commendation from great potentates;

And here he means to spend his time awhile:

I think ’tis no unwelcome news to you.

Duke. Welcome him, then, according to his worth.

80 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.

Val. This is the gentleman I told your ladyship

Had come along with me, but that his mistress

85 Did hold his eyes lock’d in her crystal looks.

Sil. Belike that now she hath enfranchised them,

Upon some other pawn for fealty.

Val. Nay, sure, I think she holds them prisoners still.

Sil. Nay, then, he should be blind; and, being blind,

90 How could he see his way to seek out you?

Val. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself:

Upon a homely object Love can wink.

Val. Welcome, dear Proteus! Mistress, I beseech you,

Confirm his welcome with some special favour.

Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,

If this be he you oft have wish’d to hear from.

II. 4.
100 Val. Mistress, it is: sweet lady, entertain him

To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship.

Pro. Not so, sweet lady: but too mean a servant

To have a look of such a worthy mistress.

105 Val. Leave off discourse of disability:

Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant.

Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed:

Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress.

Thu. Madam, my lord your father would speak with you.

Sil. I wait upon his pleasure. Come, Sir Thurio,

Go with me. Once more, new servant, welcome:

115 I’ll leave you to confer of home affairs;

When you have done, we look to hear from you.

Val. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came?

Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much commended.

Val. And how do yours?

Val. How does your lady? and how thrives your love?

Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you;

I know you joy not in a love-discourse.

Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter’d now:

II. 4.
125 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,

130 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,

135 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.

Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye.

140 Was this the idol that you worship so?

Val. O, flatter me; for love delights in praises.

145 Pro. When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills;

And I must minister the like to you.

Val. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine,

Yet let her be a principality,

Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth.

Except thou wilt except against my love.

Val. And I will help thee to prefer her too:

She shall be dignified with this high honour,—

155 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.

Val. Pardon me, Proteus: all I can is nothing

To her, whose worth makes other worthies nothing;

She is alone.

Val. Not for the world: why, man, she is mine own;

165 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.

170 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.

Pro. But she loves you?

II. 4.
175 Val. 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.

180 Good Proteus, go with me to my chamber,

In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel.

Pro. Go on before; I shall inquire you forth:

I must unto the road, to disembark

Some necessaries that I needs must use;

185 And then I’ll presently attend you.

Val. Will you make haste?

Pro. I will. Exit Valentine.

Even as one heat another heat expels,

Or as one nail by strength drives out another,

190 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?

195 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,

II. 4.
200 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!

205 ’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 check my erring love, I will;

210 If not, to compass her I’ll use my skill. Exit.