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Flatter, and praise, commend, extol their graces ;
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 kepu
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, 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?
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!
1 i. e. hinders.
And here an engine fit for my proceeding ?
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 impórtune, Do curse the grace that with such grace hath blessed
them, Because myself do want my servants' fortune : I curse myself, for they are sent by me, That they should harbor where their lord should be. What's here? Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee ! 'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.Why, Phaëton (for thou art Merops' son) 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! over-weening 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 favors Which, all too much, I have bestowed 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 lov'st thy life, make speed from hence.
[Ecit DUKE. Val. And why not death, rather than living tor
What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE.
Laun. Him we go to find! there's not a hair? on's head, but 'tis a Valentine.
word. Val. My ears are stopped, and cannot hear good
news, So much of bad already hath possessed them.
1 i. e. by flying, or in flying; a Gallicism.
2 Launce is still quibbling: he is running down the hare he started when he first entered.
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,
Pro. Čease to lament for that thou can’st not help,
Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.
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 milkmaid: 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 waterspaniel,—which is much in a bareChristian. 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.
1 Women anciently had a pocket in the forepart of their stays, in which they carried not only love-letters and love-tokens, but even their money.
2 Gossips not only signify those who answer for a child in baptism, but the tattling women who attend lyings-in.
3 Bare has two senses, mere and naked.