SCENE III. The same. A Room in Antonio's House. Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO. Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that, Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pant. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. Ant. Why, what of him? Pant. He said, that Proteus, your son, was meet; To let him spend his time no more at home, Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that Whereon this month I have been hammering. I have considered well his loss of time; And perfected by the swift course of time: Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him? How his companion, youthful Valentine, Attends the emperor in his royal court. Ant. I know it well. Pant. 'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither: There shall he practise tilts and tournaments, Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen; And be in eye of every exercise, Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth. Ant. I like thy counsel: well hast thou advised; And, that thou may'st perceive how well I like it, The execution of it shall make known; Even with the speediest expedition I will despatch him to the emperor's court. Pant. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso, With other gentlemen of good esteem, Are journeying to salute the emperor, And to commend their service to his will. Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go: Pro. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life! Ant. How now? what letter are you reading there? Pro. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two Of commendations sent from Valentine, Delivered by a friend that came from him. Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news. Pro. There is no news, my lord; but that he writes How happily he lives, how well beloved And daily graced by the emperor; Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune. Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish? And not depending on his friendly wish. Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish; To-morrow be in readiness to go: Excuse it not, for I am peremptory. Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided; Please you, deliberate a day or two. Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent after thee: No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go. Come on, Panthino; you shall be employed To hasten on his expedition. [Exeunt ANT. and PANT, Pro. Thus have I shunned the fire, for fear of burning; And drenched me in the sea, where I am drowned: I feared to show my father Julia's letter, Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, Pant. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you; Pro. Why, this it is! my heart accords thereto; And yet a thousand times it answers, no. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. Milan. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Enter VALENTINE and SPEED. Speed. Sir, your glove. Val. Not mine; my gloves are on. Speed. Why then this may be yours, for this is but one. Val. Ha! let me see: ay, give it me, it's mine: Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine! Ah Silvia! Silvia ! Speed. Madam Silvia! madam Silvia! Val. How now, sirrah? Speed. She is not within hearing, sir. Val. Why, sir, who bade you call her? Val. Well, you'll still be too forward. Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow. Val. Go to, sir; tell me, do you know madam Silvia? Speed. She that your worship loves? Val. Why, how know you that I am in love? Speed. Marry, by these special marks: First, you have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreath your arms, like a malecontent; to relish a love-song, like a robin-red breast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a school-boy that had lost his A, B, C; to weep, like a young wench that had buried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one that fears robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you looked sadly, it was for want of money: and now you are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I look on you, I can hardly think you my master. Val. Are all these things perceived in me? Speed. Without you! nay, that's certain, for, without you were so simple, none else would: but you are so without these follies, that these follies are within you, and shine through you like the water in an urinal; that not an eye, that sees you, but is a physician to comment on your malady. Val. But tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia? Speed. She that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper ? Val. Hast thou observed that? even she I mean. Speed. Why, sir, I know her not. Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet know'st her not? Speed. Is she not hard-favored, sir? Val. Not so fair, boy, as well favored. Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) well-favored. Val. I mean, that her beauty is exquisite, but her favor infinite. Speed. That's because the one is painted, and the other out of all count. Val. How painted? and how out of count? Speed. Marry, sir, so painted to make her fair, that no man counts of her beauty. Val. How esteem'st thou me? I account of her beauty. Speed. Ever since you loved her. Val. I have loved her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful. Speed. If you love her, you cannot see her. Val. Why? Speed. Because love is blind. O, that you had mine eyes; or your own eyes had the lights they were wont to have, when you chid at Sir Proteus for going ungartered! Val. What should I see then? Speed. Your own present folly, and her passing deformity: for he, being in love, could not see to garter his hose; and you, being in love, cannot see to put on your hose. Val. Belike, boy, then you are in love; for last morning you could not see to wipe my shoes. Speed. True, sir; I was in love with my bed: I thank you, you swinged me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you for yours. G Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her. Speed. I would you were set, so, your affection would cease. Val. Last night she enjoined me to write some lines to one she loves. Speed. And have you? Val. I have. Speed. Are they not lamely writ? Val. No, boy, but as well as I can do them: Peace, here she comes. Enter SILVIA. Speed. O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet! now will he interpret to her. Val. Madam and mistress, a thousand good-morrows. Speed. O, 'give you good even! here's a million of manners. [Aside. Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand. Speed. He should give her interest; and she gives it him. Val. As you enjoined me, I have writ your letter Unto the secret, nameless friend of yours; Which I was much unwilling to proceed in, But for my duty to your ladyship. Sil. I thank you, gentle servant: 'tis very clerkly done. Val. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off; For, being ignorant to whom it goes, I writ at random very doubtfully. Sil. Perchance you think too much of so much pains? Val. No, madam; so it stead you, I will write, Please you command, a thousand times as much : And yet, care not; Sil. A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel; Speed. And yet you will; and yet another yet. [Aside. Nay, take them. Val. Madam, they are for you. Sil. Ay, ay; you writ them, sir, at my request; But I will none of them; they are for you: I would have had them writ more movingly. Val. Please you, I'll write your ladyship another. Sil. And, when it's writ, for my sake read it over: And, if it please you, so; if not, why, so. |