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Sir Valentine her company, and my court:
Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devised a mean
Duke. Upon mine honor, he shall never know
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 a while ; I am to break with thee of some affairs, That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret. '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 Were rich and honorable ; besides, the gentleman Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter: Cannot your grace win her to fancy him?
Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward, Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty;
Neither regarding that she is my child,
Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan, here,
Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words ;
Duke. But she did scorn a present that I sent her.'
Val. A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her:
Duke But she I mean, is promised by her friends
Val. Why then I would resort to her by night.
Duke. Ay, but the doors be locked, 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,
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 ?
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 harbor with my Silvia nightly ;
And slaves they are to me, that send them flying : 0, 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,
Because myself do want my servants' fortune :
While 1, their kinh thy pure bosom mey are lying
Is privilege for thy departure hence:
Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE.
Laun. Him we go to find! there's not a hair on's head, but 'tis a Valentine.
Pro. Valentine ?
Laun. Why, sir, I'll strike nothing: I pray you — Pro. Sirrah, I say, forbear: Friend Valentine, a word.
Val. My ears are stopped, and cannot hear good news, So much of bad already hath possessed them..
Pro. Then in dumb silence will I bury mine,
Val. Is Silvia dead ?
Val. No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia !-
Pro. No, Valentine.
Val. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me!What is your news?
Laun. Sir, there's a proclamation that you are vanished.
Pro. That thou art banished, O, that's the newsFrom hence, from Silvia, and from me, thy friend.
Val. O, I have fed upon this wo already, And now excess of it will make me surfeit. Doth Silvia know that I am banished ?
Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offered to the doom, (Which, unreversed, stands in effectual force,) A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears : Those at her father's churlish feet she tendered; With them, upon her knees, her humble self; Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them, As if but now they waxed pale for wo: But neither bended knees, pure hands held up, Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears, Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire; But Valentine, if he be ta’en, must die. Besides, her intercession chafed him so, When she for thy repeal was suppliant, That to close prison he commanded her, With many bitter threats of 'biding there.
Val. No more; unless the next word that thou speak'st, Have some malignant power upon my life: If so, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear, As ending anthem of my endless dolor.
Pro, Cease to lament for that thou can’st not help, And study help for that which thou lament'st. Time is the nurse and breeder of all good. Here if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love; Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life. Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that, And manage it against despairing thoughts. Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence;