VALENTINE

C Ease to persuade my loving Protheus ; Home-keeping youth; have ever homely wits, Were't not affection chains thy tender days To the sweet glances of thy honoured Love, I rather would entreat thy company, To see the wonders of the world abroad, Then (living dully sluggardiz'd at home) Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness. But since thou lovest; love still, and thrive therein, Even as I would, when I to love begin. And on a love-book pray for my success? It's true; for you are ouer-bootes in love, And yet you never swom the Hellespont. To be in love; where scorn is bought with groans: Coy looks, with hart-sore sighs: one fading moments mirth, With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights; If haply wone, perhaps a hapless gain; If lost, why then a grievous labour wone; How ever: but a folly bought with wit, Or else a wit, by folly vanquished. So, by your circumstance, I fear you'll prove. Would? Let me see: I, give it me, it's mine: Sweet Ornament, that decks a thing divine, Ah Silvia, Silvia. What dost thou know? How long hath she been deformed? Why? I have. To whom? Why she hath not writ to me? She gave me none, except and angry word. I have dined. I quoat it in your Jerkin. I, my good Lord, a Son, that well deserves The honour, and regard of such a father. I knew him as my self: for from our Infancy We have conversed, and spent our hours together, And though my self have been and idle Trewant, Omitting the sweet benefit of time To cloth mine age with Angel-like perfection: Yet hath Sir Protheus (for that's his name) Made use, and fair advantage of his days: His years but young, but his experience old: His head vn-mellowed, but his Judgement ripe; And in a word (for far behind his worth Comes all the praises that I now bestow.) He is complete in feature, and in mind, With all good grace, to grace a Gentleman. Should I have wished a thing, it had been he. Why Lady, Love hath twenty pair of eyes. Mistress, it is: sweet Lady, entertain him To be my fellow-servant to your Ladyship. Oh flatter me: for Love delights in praises. What lets but one may enter at her window? 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. I my good Lord. Nothing. My friends. From Milan. How Like a dream is this? I see, and hear: Love, lend me patience to forbear a while. Come, come: a hand from either: Let me be blessed to make this happy close: 'Twere pity two such friends should be long foes. I thank your Grace, y e gift hath made me happy: I now beseech you (for your daughters sake) To grant one Boon that I shall ask of you. That's on some shallow Story of deep love, How young Leander crossed the Hellespont. No, I will not; for it boots thee not. Love is your master, for he Master's you; And he that is so yoked by a fool, Me thinks should not be chronicled for wise. And Writers say; as the most forward Bud Is eaten by the Canker ere it blow, Even so by Love, the young, and tender wit Is turned to folly, blasting in the Bud, Losing his verdure, even in the prime, And all the fair effects of future Hope's. But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee That art a votary to found desire? Once more adieu: my Father at the Road Expects my coming, there to see me shipped. Sweet Protheus, no: Now let us take our leave: To Milan let me hear from thee by Letters Of thy success in love; and what news else Betides here in absence of thy Friend: And I likewise will visit thee with mine. As much to you at home: and so farewell. How now Sirrah? Why sir, who had you call her? Well: you'll still be too forward. Go to, sir, tell me: do you know Madam Silvia ? Why, how know you that I am in love? Are all these things perceived in me? Without me? they cannot. But tell me: dost thou know my Lady Silvia ? Hast thou observed that? even she I mean. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet knowest her not? Not so fair (boy) as well favoured. I mean that her beauty is exquisite, But her favour infinite. How painted? and how out of count? How esteemest thou me? I account of her beauty. I have loved her ever since I saw her, And still I see her beautiful. What should I see then? Belike (boy) then you are in love, for last mor ning You could not see to wipe my shoes. In conclusion, I stand affected to her. Last night she enjoined me, To write some lines to one she loves. No (Boy) but as well as I can do them: Peace, here she comes. Madam & Mistress, a thousand good-morrows. 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. Now trust me (Madam) it came hardly-off: For being ignorant to whom it goes, I writ at random, very doubtfully. No (Madam) so it steed you I will write (Please you command) a thousand times as much: And yet — What means your Ladyship? Do you not Like it? Madam, they are for you. Please you, I'll write your Ladyship another. If it please me, (Madam?) what then? How now Sir? What are you reasoning with your self? To do what? What figure? No, believe me. That's the Letter I writ to her friend. I would it were no worse. Mistress. I Boy, it's for love. Of my Mistress then. Indeed, Madam, I seem so. Haply I do. So do you. Wise. Your folly. Well then, I'll double your folly. Give him leave, Madam, he is a kind of Chameleon. You have said Sir. I know it well sir, you always end ere you begin. It's indeed, Madam, we thank the giver. Your self (sweet Lady) for you gave the fire, Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your Ladyships looks, And spends what he borrows kindly in your company I know it well sir: you have and Exchequer of words, And I think, no other treasure to give your followers: For it appears by their bore Liveries That they live by your bore words. My Lord, I will be thankful, To any happy messenger from thence. I, my good Lord, I know the Gentleman To be of worth, and worthy estimation, And not without desert so well reputed. This is the Gentleman I told your Ladyship Had come along with me, but that his Mistress Did hold his eyes, locked in her Crystal looks. Nay sure, I think she holds them prisoners still. To see such Lovers, Thurio, as your self, Upon a homely object, Love can wink. Welcome, deer Protheus : Mistress, I beseech you Confirm his welcome, with some special favour. Leave off discourse of disability: Sweet Lady, entertain him for your Servant. Now tell me: how do all from whence you came? And how do yours? How does your Lady? & how thrives your love? I Protheus, but that life is altered now, I have done penance for contemning Love, Whose high emperious thoughts have punished me With bitter fasts, with penitential groans, With nightly tears, and daily hart-sore sighs, For in revenge of my contempt of love, Love hath chased sleep from my enthralled eyes, And made them watchers of mine own hearts sorrow. Oh gentle Protheus, Love's a mighty Lord, And hath so humbled me, as I confess There is no woe to his correction, Nor to his Service, no such joy on earth: Now, no discourse, except it be of love: Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep, Upon the very naked name of Love. Even She; and is she not a heavenly Saint? Call her divine. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine, Yet let her be a principality, Sovereign to all the Creatures on the earth, Sweet: except not any, Except thou wilt except against my Love. And I will help thee to prefer her to: She shall be dignified with this high honour, To bear my Ladies train, left the base earth Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss, And of so great a favour growing proud, Disdain to root the Sommer-swelling flower, And make rough winter everlastingly. Pardon me (Protheus) all I can is nothing, To her, whose worth, make other worthies nothing; She is alone. Not for the world: why man, she is mine own, And I as rich in having such a Jewel As twenty Seas, if all their sand were pearl, The water, Nectar, and the Rocks pure gold. Forgive me that I do not dream on thee, Because thou seest me dote upon my love: My foolish Rival that her Father likes (Only for his possessions are so huge) Is gone with her along, and I must after, For Love (thou knowest is full of jealousy.) I, and we are betroathd: nay more, our marriage hour, With all the cunning manner of our flight Determined of: how I must climb her window, The Ladder made of Cords, and all the means Plotted, and agreed on for my happiness. Good Protheus go with me to my chamber, In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel. Will you make haste? Please it your Grace, there is a Messenger That stays to bear my Letters to my friends, And I am going to deliver them. The tenure of them does but signify My health, and happy being at your Court. I know it well (my Lord) and sure the Match Were rich and honourable: beside, 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? What would your Grace have me to do in this? Win her with gifts, if she respect not words, Dumb Jewels often in their silent kind More then quick words, do move a woman's mind. A woman sometime scorns what best continued ̄ tents her. Send her another: never give her over, For scorn at first, makes after-love the more. If she do frown, it's not in hate of you, But rather to beget more love in you. If she do chide, it's not to have you gone, For why, the fools are mad, if left alone. Take no repulse, what ever she does say, For, get you gone, she does not mean away. Flatter, and praise, commend, extol their graces: Though never 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. Why then I would resort to her by night. When would you use it? pray sir, tell me that. By seven a clock, isle get you such a Ladder. It will be light (my Lord) that you may bear it Under a cloak, that is of any length. Why any cloak will serve the turn (my Lord) And why not death, rather then living torment? To die, is to be banished from my self, And Silvia is my self: banished from her 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 leave to be; If I be not by her fair influence Fostered, illumined, cherished, kept alive. I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom, Tarry I here, I but attend on death, But fly I hence, I fly away from life. No. Neither, My ears are stopped, & cannot hear good news, So much of bade already hath possessed them. Is Silvia dead? No Valentine indeed, for sacred Silvia, Hath she forsworn me? No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me. What is your news? O, I have fed upon this woe already, And now excess of it will make me surfeit. Does Silvia know that I am banished? No more: unless the next word that thou speakest Have some malignant power upon my life: If so: I pray thee breath it in mine ear, As ending Anthem of my endless dolour. I pray thee Lance, and if thou seest my Boy Bid him make haste, and meet me at the North-gate. Then know that I have little wealth to lose; A man I am, crossed with adversity: My riches, are these poor habiliments, Of which, if you should here disfurnish me, You take the sum and substance that I have. To Verona. Some sixteen months, and longer might have stayed, If crooked fortune had not thwarted me. I was. For that which now torments me to rehearse; I killed a man, whose death I much repent, But yet I slew him manfully, in fight, Without false vantage, or base treachery. I was, and held me glad of such a doom. My youthful travail, therein made me happy, Or else I often had been often miserable. Peace villain. Nothing but my fortune. I take your offer, and will live with you, Provided that you do no outrages On silly women, or poor passengers. How use does breed a habit in a man? This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods I better brook then flourishing peopled Towns: Here can I fit alone, unseen of any, And to the Nightingales complaining Notes Tune my distrestes, and record my woes. Oh thou that dost inhabit in my breast, Leave not the Mansion so long Tenantless, Lest growing ruinous, the building fallen, And leave no memory of what it was, Repair me, with thy presence, Silvia : Thou gentle Nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain. What hallowing, and what stir is this to day? These are my mates, that make their wills their Law, Have some unhappy passenger in chase; They love me well: yet I have much to do To keep them from uncivil outrages. Withdraw thee Valentine : who's this comes here? Ruffian: let go that rude uncivil touch, Thou friend of and ill fashion. Thou continued ̄ mon friend, that's without faith or love, For such is a friend now: treacherous man, Thou hast beguiled my Hope's; nought but mine eye Could have persuaded me: now I dare not say I have one friend alive; thou wouldst disprove me: Who should be trusted, when ones right hand Is perjured to the bosom? Protheus I am sorry I must never trust thee more, But count the world a stranger for thy sake: The private wound is deepest: o time, most accursed: amongst all foes that a friend should be the worst? Then I am paid: And once again, I do receive thee honest; Who by Repentance is not satisfied, Is nor of heaven, nor earth; for these are pleased: By Penitence the Eternals wrath's appeased: And that my love may appear plain and free, All that was mine, in Silvia, I give thee. Why, Boy? Why wag: how now? what's the matter? look up: speak. Forbear, forbear I say: It is my Lord the Duke. Your Grace is welcome to a man disgraced, Banished Valentine. Thurio give back; or else embrace thy death: Come not within the measure of my wrath: Do not name Silvia thine: if once again, Ʋ erona shall not hold thee: here she stands, Take but possession of her, with a Touch: I dare thee, but to breath upon my Love. These banished men, that I have kept withal, Are men endued with worthy qualities: Forgive them what they have committed here, And let them be recalled from their Exile: They are reformed, civil, full of good, And fit for great employment (worthy Lord.) And as we walk along, I dare be bold With our discourse, to make your Grace to smile. What think you of this Page (my Lord?) I warrant you (my Lord) more grace, then Boy. Please you, I'll tell you, as we pass along, That you will wonder what hath fortuned: Come Protheus, it's your penance, but to hear The story of your Loves discovered. That done, our day of marriage shall be yours, One Feast, one house, one mutual happiness. Not mine: my Gloves are on. O my deer Silvia ; hapless Valentine.