ACT III. SCENE I-Milan. An anti-room in 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 TRU. 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 : But, when I call to mind your gracious favours My duty pricks me on to utter that Which else no worldly good should draw from me. you, I know you have determin'd to bestow her Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care; Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never know Pro. Adieu, my lord; sir Valentine is coming. [Exit. Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? Duke. Be they of much import? Val. 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, That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret. To match my friend, sir Thurio, to my daughter. Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward, Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty; Neither regarding that she is my child, Nor fearing me as if I were her father : Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her; And turn her out to who will take her in : [2] Pretence is design. STEEV. For me and my possessions she esteems not. Val. What would your grace have me to do in this? Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan, 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 chang'd ;) How, and which way, I may bestow myself, To be regarded in her sun-bright eye. Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words; Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, More than quick words, do move a woman's mind. Send her another; never give her o'er ; Duke. But she, I mean, is promis'd 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. Val. 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. Val. What lets, but one may enter at her window? Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground; And built so shelving that one cannot climb it Without apparent hazard of his life. Val. Why then, a ladder, quaintly made of cords, Duke. Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood, Advise me where I may have such a ladder. Val. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell me that. Duke. This very night; for love is like a child, That longs for every thing that he can come by. Val. 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? Val. It will be light, my lord, that you may bear it Under a cloak, that is of any length. Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn? Val. Ay, my good lord. Duke. Then let me see thy cloak; I'll get me one of such another length. Val. 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 ? [Reads. Himself would lodge, where senseless they are lying. My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them; While I, their king, that hither them importune, Docurse 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, That they should harbour where their lord should be. What's here? Silvia, this night will I enfranchise thee: 'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.. Thank me for this, more than for all the favours, [3] Thou art Phaeton in thy rashness, but without his pretensions: thou art not the son of a divinity, but a terra filius, a low-born wretch; Merops is thy true father, with whom Phaeton was falsely reproached. JOHNS. Which, all too much, I have bestow'd on thee. Longer than swiftest expedition Will give thee time to leave our royal court, Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excuse, But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence. [Exit DUKE. Val. 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! 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, 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 Foster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive. I fly not death, to fly is deadly doom: Tarry I here, I but attend on death; But, fly I hence, I fly away from life. Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE. Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out. Pro. What seest thou? Laun. Him we go to find: there's not a hair On 's head, but 'tis a Valentine. Pro. Valentine? Val. No. Pro. Who then? his spirit? Val. Neither. Pro. What then? Val. Nothing. Laun. Can nothing speak? master, shall I strike ? Pro. Whom wouldst thou strike? Laun. Nothing. Pro. Villain, forbear. |