Val. Why then, a ladder, quaintly made of cords, 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. I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.- [Reads. My thoughts do harbor with my Silvia nightly; Himself would lodge where senseless they are lying. Do That they should harbor where their lord should be. Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee! 'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.- Is privilege for thy departure hence: Thank me for this, more than for all the favors Longer than swiftest expedition Will give thee time to leave our royal court, Re gone, I will not hear thy vain excuse; But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence. 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, Laun. Can nothing speak? master, shall I strike Pro. Whom would'st thou strike? Laun. Nothing. Pro. Villain, forbear. 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, For they are harsh, untunable, and bad." Val. Is Silvia dead? Pro. No, Valentine. Val. No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia !Hath she forsworn me? 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. And now excess of it will make me surfeit. Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offered to the doom, But neither bended knees, pure hands held up, 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; Which, being writ to me, shall be delivered Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy, Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north gate. Pro Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine. Val. O my dear Silvia! hapless Valentine! [Exeunt VALENTINE and PROTEUS. Laun. I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to think, my master is a kind of a knave: but that's all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now, that knows me to be in love: yet I am in love; but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me; nor who 'tis I love, and yet 'tis a woman: but what woman, I will not tell myself: and yet 'tis a milk-maid: yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips: yet 'tis a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages. She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel, -which is much in a bare Christian. Here is the cate-log [pulling out a paper] of her condition. Imprimis, She can fetch and carry. Why, a horse can do no more; nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore is she better than a jade. Item, She can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands. Enter SPEED. Speed. How now, signior Launce? what news with your mastership? Laun. With my master's ship? why, it is at sea. Speed. Well, your old vice still; mistake the word: What news then in your paper? Laun. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st. Laun. Why, as black as ink. Speed. Let me read them. Laun. Fie on thee, jolt-head; thou canst not read Speed. Thou liest, I can. Laun. I will try thee: Tell me this; Who begot thee? Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather. Laun. O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy grand mother: this proves that thou canst not read. Speed. Come, fool, come: try me in thy paper Laun. There and saint Nicholas be thy speed! Speed. Imprimis, She can milk. Laun. Ay, that she can. Speed. Item, She brews good ale. Laun. And therefore comes the proverb, -Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale. Speed. Item, She can sew. Laun. That's as much as to say, can she so? Speed. Item, She can knit. Laun. What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when she can knit him a stock. Speed. Item, She can wash and scour. Laun. A special virtue; for then she need not be washed and scoured. Speed. Item, She can spin. Laun. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living. Speed. Item, She hath many nameless virtues. Laun. That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have no naïnes. Speed. Here follow her vices. Laun. Close at the heels of her virtues. Speed. Item, She is not to be kissed fasting, in respect of her breath. Laun. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast: Read on. Speed. Item, She hath a sweet mouth. Laun. That makes amends for her sour breath. Laun. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk. Laun. O villain, that set this down among her vices! To be slow in words, is a woman's only virtue: I pray thee, out with't; and place it for her chief virtue. Speed. Item, She is proud. Laun. Out with that too; it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her. Speed. Item, She hath no teeth. Laun. I care not for that neither, because I love crusts. Speed. Item, She is curst. Laun. Well, the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. Speed. Item, She will often praise her liquor. Laun. If her liquor be good, she shall: if she will not, I will; for good things should be praised. Speed. Item, She is too liberal. Laun. Of her tongue she cannot; for that's writ down |