Only deserve my love, by loving him; [Ereunt. ACT III. SCENE I. Milan. An Anti-room in the DUKE's Palace. Enter DUKE, THURIO, and PROTEUS. Duke. Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile; We have some secrets to confer about.- [Exit Thurio. Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me? Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would discover, The law of friendship bids me to conceal: But, when I call to mind your gracious favours Done to me, undeserving as I am, My duty pricks me on to utter that Which else no worldly good should draw from me. Know, worthy prince, sir Valentine, my friend, This night intends to steal away your daughter; Myself am one made privy to the plot. I know, you have determin'd to bestow her On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates; And should she thus be stolen away from you, It would be much vexation to your age. Thus, for my duty's sake, I rather chose To cross my friend in his intended drift, Than, by concealing it, heap on your head A pack of sorrows, which would press you down, Being unprevented, to your timeless grave. Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care; Which to requite, command me while I live. This love of theirs myself have often seen, Haply, when they have judg'd me fast asleep; And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid Sir Valentine her company, and my court: But, fearing lest my jealous aim might err, And so, unworthily, disgrace the man G (A rashuess that I ever yet have shunn'd), Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never know That I had any light from thee of this. Pro. Adieu, my lord; sir Valentine is coming. [Erit. Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? 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 awhile; 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 honourable; besides, the gentleman Js 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, Nor fearing me as if I were her father: And, may I say to thee, this pride of hers, Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her; And, where I thought the remnant of mine age Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty, Whom I affect; but she is nice, and coy, Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words; Send her another; never give her o'er; Duke. But she I mean, is promis'd by her friends Val. Why then I would resort to her by night. Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock'd, 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, 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. Val. It will be light, my lord, that you may bear it Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn? [To Silvia. Val. Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord. [Reads. Himself would lodge, where senseless they are lying. I curse myself, for they are sent by me, Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee: Longer than swiftest expedition Will give thee time to leave our royal court, hat, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence. [Erit. : Val. And why not death, rather than living torment? To die, is to be banish'd from myself; Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE. Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him ont. Laun. So-ho! so-ho! Pro. What seest thou? Laun. Him we go to find: there's not a hair on's head, but 'tis a Valentine. Pro. Valentine? Val. No. Pro. Who then? his spirit? Val. Neither. Pro. What then? Val. Nothing. Laun. Can nothing speak? master, shall I strike? Pro. Whom wouldst 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 stopp'd, and cannot hear good news, So much of bad already hath possess'd them. Pro. Then in dumb silence will I bury mine, For they are harsh, untuneable, 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? |