Upon advice,5 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,
I now am full resolved to take a wife,
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?
Duke. There is a lady in Milano here

Whom I affect; but she is nice and coy,
And nought esteems my agèd 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,
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.

Duke. But she did scorn a present that I sent her.

Val. A woman sometime 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,
But rather to beget more love in you:

5"Upon advice" here has the sense of deliberately or after careful weighing. So in Measure for Measure, v. 1: "Yet did repent me, after more advice." And in The Merchant, iv. 2: "My Lord Bassanio, upon more advice, hath sent you here this ring." See page 192, note II.

6 Where was, just before Shakespeare's time, continually used for whereas. He has it thus in divers places, though the usage was fast dying - In the next line, should for would, in accordance with the old undifferentiated use of could, should, and would.

out.

7 The Poet repeatedly has bestow in the sense of behave. So in As You Like It, iv. 3: "The boy is fair, of female favour, but bestows himself like a right forester."

If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone ;
For why the fools are mad,8 if left alone.
Take no repulse, whatever she doth say;
For get you gone, she doth not mean away!
Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces:
Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces.
That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man,
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

Duke. But she I mean is promised 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 lets9 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.

8 For why, as Dyce amply shows, was often used with the simple force of because or for the reason that. Shakespeare has it thus repeatedly. So also in The Troublesome Raigne of King John, 1622: “If thou art resolv'd, I will absolve thee here from all thy sinnes, for why the deed is meritorious." White prints the passage in the text, "For why! - the fools are mad." Some others print, "For why, the fools are mad." Both evidently wrong; there should be no point after why. This reminds me that the phrase is wrongly printed in the Psalter, wherever it occurs; at least in all the editions that I have seen. Thus in Psalm xvi. 10, II: "Wherefore my heart was glad, and my glory rejoiced: my flesh also shall rest in hope: for why? thou shalt not leave my soul in hell," &c. Here the logic clearly requires the sense of because or for; as the Bible version has it: "For thou wilt not leave my soul in hell." And so the Psalter ought evidently to be printed" for why thou shalt not," &c. See page 112, note 33.

9 Here lets is the old word, now out of use, meaning to hinder. So in the Collect for the 4th Sunday in Advent: "Whereas, through our sins and wickedness, we are sore let and hindered in running the race that is set before us," &c.

Val. Why, then a ladder, quaintly made of cords,
To cast up, with a pair of anchoring hooks,
Would serve to scale another Hero's tower,
So bold Leander would adventure it.

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!
And here an engine fit for my proceeding!

I'll be so bold to break the seal for once.

[Reads.] My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly;

And slaves they are to me, that send them flying:

O, could their master come and go as lightly,

Himself would lodge where senseless they are lying!

My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them;
While I, their king, that thither them importune,

Do curse 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 would be.

What's here?

Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee:
'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.
Why, Phaethon,- for thou art Merops' son,10—
Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car,
And with thy daring folly burn the world?
Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee?
Go, base intruder! overweening slave!
Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates;
And think my patience, more than thy desert,
Is privilege for thy departure hence:

Thank me for this, more than for all the favours
Which, all too much, I have bestow'd on thee.
But if thou linger in my territories

Longer than swiftest expedition

Will give thee time to leave our royal Court,
By Heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the love

I ever bore my daughter or thyself.

Be gone! I will not hear thy vain excuse;

But, as thou lovest thy life, make speed from hence. [Exit.
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,

10 The Duke probably calls him Merops' son by way of reproach. Phaethon was the son of Phoebus the Sun-god by the Oceanid Clymene, wife of Merops. According to Ovid, some slighted his high pretensions, as thinking him the son of his mother's husband. The youth took this so hard, that he must needs go to Phoebus, and beg the favour of being allowed to drive his team for one day, as a formal and public recognition of him in the character he was so proud of. Phoebus, in a gush of fatherly affection, granted his prayer, before he knew what it was to be, and swore by Styx, so that he could not recede from the promise. Phaëthon made a bad job of it, as his father had feared he would; getting the world so out of order through his ambitious incompetency, -for his father's horses were mighty high-strung,—that Jupiter had to knock him over with a thunderbolt.

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 leave11 to be,
If I be not by her fair influence

Foster'd, illumined, cherish'd, kept alive.
I fly not death, to fly 12 this 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.

Launce. So-ho, so-ho!

Pro. What see'st thou?

Launce. Him we go to find: there's not a hair 13 on's head

but 'tis a Valentine.

Pro. Valentine!

Val. No.

Pro. Who then? his spirit?

Val. Neither.

Pro. What then?

Val. Nothing.

11 Leave, again, for cease. See page 195, note 2.

12 To fly, here, means the same as by flying; an instance of the infinitive used gerundively, or like the Latin gerund. We have three instances of the same usage in as many consecutive lines, in ii. 6: "To leave my Julia," -"To love fair Silvia," and "To wrong my friend."

13 Punning still. Launce is running down the hare he started at his

entrance.