The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - William Shakespeare (book suggestions .TXT) 📗

horns, whether I wake or sleep.

PROTEUS. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep.

SPEED. This proves me still a sheep.

PROTEUS. True; and thy master a shepherd.

SPEED. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance.

PROTEUS. It shall go hard but I’ll prove it by another.

SPEED. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks not me; therefore, I am no sheep.

PROTEUS. The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd; the shepherd for food follows not the sheep: thou for wages followest thy master; thy master for wages follows not thee. Therefore, thou art a sheep.

SPEED. Such another proof will make me cry ‘baa.’

PROTEUS. But dost thou hear? Gav’st thou my letter to Julia?

SPEED. Ay, sir; I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, a lac’d mutton; and she, a lac’d mutton, gave me, a lost mutton, nothing for my labour.

PROTEUS. Here’s too small a pasture for such store of muttons.

SPEED. If the ground be overcharg’d, you were best stick her.

PROTEUS. Nay, in that you are astray: ‘twere best pound you.

SPEED. Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your letter.

PROTEUS. You mistake; I mean the pound-a pinfold.

SPEED. From a pound to a pin? Fold it over and over, ‘Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover.

PROTEUS. But what said she?

SPEED. [Nodding] Ay.

PROTEUS. Nod-ay. Why, that’s ‘noddy.’

SPEED. You mistook, sir; I say she did nod; and you ask me if she did nod; and I say ‘Ay.’

PROTEUS. And that set together is ‘noddy.’

SPEED. Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for your pains.

PROTEUS. No, no; you shall have it for bearing the letter.

SPEED. Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you.

PROTEUS. Why, sir, how do you bear with me?

SPEED. Marry, sir, the letter, very orderly; having nothing but the word ‘noddy’ for my pains.

PROTEUS. Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit.

SPEED. And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse.

PROTEUS. Come, come, open the matter; in brief, what said she?

SPEED. Open your purse, that the money and the matter may be both at once delivered.

PROTEUS. Well, sir, here is for your pains. What said she?

SPEED. Truly, sir, I think you’ll hardly win her.

PROTEUS. Why, couldst thou perceive so much from her?

SPEED. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no, not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter; and being so hard to me that brought your mind, I fear she’ll prove as hard to you in telling your mind. Give her no token but stones, for she’s as hard as steel.

PROTEUS. What said she? Nothing?

SPEED. No, not so much as ‘Take this for thy pains.’ To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testern’d me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself; and so, sir, I’ll commend you to my master.

PROTEUS. Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wreck, Which cannot perish, having thee aboard, Being destin’d to a drier death on shore. Exit SPEED

I must go send some better messenger.

I fear my Julia would not deign my lines, Receiving them from such a worthless post. Exit

SCENE II.

Verona. The garden Of JULIA’S house

 

Enter JULIA and LUCETTA

 

JULIA. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love?

LUCETTA. Ay, madam; so you stumble not unheedfully.

JULIA. Of all the fair resort of gentlemen That every day with parle encounter me, In thy opinion which is worthiest love?

LUCETTA. Please you, repeat their names; I’ll show my mind According to my shallow simple skill.

JULIA. What think’st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour?

LUCETTA. As of a knight well-spoken, neat, and fine; But, were I you, he never should be mine.

JULIA. What think’st thou of the rich Mercatio?

LUCETTA. Well of his wealth; but of himself, so so.

JULIA. What think’st thou of the gentle Proteus?

LUCETTA. Lord, Lord! to see what folly reigns in us!

JULIA. How now! what means this passion at his name?

LUCETTA. Pardon, dear madam; ‘tis a passing shame That I, unworthy body as I am,

Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.

JULIA. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest?

LUCETTA. Then thus: of many good I think him best.

JULIA. Your reason?

LUCETTA. I have no other but a woman’s reason: I think him so, because I think him so.

JULIA. And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him?

LUCETTA. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.

JULIA. Why, he, of all the rest, hath never mov’d me.

LUCETTA. Yet he, of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.

JULIA. His little speaking shows his love but small.

LUCETTA. Fire that’s closest kept burns most of all.

JULIA. They do not love that do not show their love.

LUCETTA. O, they love least that let men know their love.

JULIA. I would I knew his mind.

LUCETTA. Peruse this paper, madam.

JULIA. ‘To Julia’- Say, from whom?

LUCETTA. That the contents will show.

JULIA. Say, say, who gave it thee?

LUCETTA. Sir Valentine’s page; and sent, I think, from Proteus.

He would have given it you; but I, being in the way, Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault, I pray.

JULIA. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker!

Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines?

To whisper and conspire against my youth?

Now, trust me, ‘tis an office of great worth, And you an officer fit for the place.

There, take the paper; see it be return’d; Or else return no more into my sight.

LUCETTA. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.

JULIA. Will ye be gone?

LUCETTA. That you may ruminate. Exit JULIA. And yet, I would I had o’erlook’d the letter.

It were a shame to call her back again, And pray her to a fault for which I chid her.

What fool is she, that knows I am a maid And would not force the letter to my view!

Since maids, in modesty, say ‘No’ to that Which they would have the profferer construe ‘Ay.’

Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love, That like a testy babe will scratch the nurse, And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod!

How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,

When willingly I would have had her here!

How angerly I taught my brow to frown, When inward joy enforc’d my heart to smile!

My penance is to call Lucetta back

And ask remission for my folly past.

What ho! Lucetta!

 

Re-enter LUCETTA

 

LUCETTA. What would your ladyship?

JULIA. Is’t near dinner time?

LUCETTA. I would it were,

That you might kill your stomach on your meat And not upon your maid.

JULIA. What is’t that you took up so gingerly?

LUCETTA. Nothing.

JULIA. Why didst thou stoop then?

LUCETTA. To take a paper up that I let fall.

JULIA. And is that paper nothing?

LUCETTA. Nothing concerning me.

JULIA. Then let it lie for those that it concerns.

LUCETTA. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns, Unless it have a false interpreter.

JULIA. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme.

LUCETTA. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune.

Give me a note; your ladyship can set.

JULIA. As little by such toys as may be possible.

Best sing it to the tune of ‘Light o’ Love.’

LUCETTA. It is too heavy for so light a tune.

JULIA. Heavy! belike it hath some burden then.

LUCETTA. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it.

JULIA. And why not you?

LUCETTA. I cannot reach so high.

JULIA. Let’s see your song. [LUCETTA withholds the letter]

How now, minion!

LUCETTA. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out.

And yet methinks I do not like this tune.

JULIA. You do not!

LUCETTA. No, madam; ‘tis too sharp.

JULIA. You, minion, are too saucy.

LUCETTA. Nay, now you are too flat

And mar the concord with too harsh a descant; There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.

JULIA. The mean is drown’d with your unruly bass.

LUCETTA. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.

JULIA. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.

Here is a coil with protestation! [Tears the letter]

Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie.

You would be fing’ring them, to anger me.

LUCETTA. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleas’d To be so ang’red with another letter. Exit JULIA. Nay, would I were so ang’red with the same!

O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!

Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey And kill the bees that yield it with your stings!

I’ll kiss each several paper for amends.

Look, here is writ ‘kind Julia.’ Unkind Julia, As in revenge of thy ingratitude,

I throw thy name against the bruising stones, Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.

And here is writ ‘love-wounded Proteus.’

Poor wounded name! my bosom,,as a bed, Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal’d; And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.

But twice or thrice was ‘Proteus’ written down.

Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away Till I have found each letter in the letter-Except mine own name; that some whirlwind bear Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock, And throw it thence into the raging sea.

Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ: ‘Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus, To the sweet Julia.’ That I’ll tear away; And yet I will not, sith so prettily

He couples it to his complaining names.

Thus will I fold them one upon another; Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.

 

Re-enter LUCETTA

 

LUCETTA. Madam,

Dinner is ready, and your father stays.

JULIA. Well, let us go.

LUCETTA. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here?

JULIA. If you respect them, best to take them up.

LUCETTA. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down; Yet here they shall not lie for catching cold.

JULIA. I see you have a month’s mind to them.

LUCETTA. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see; I see things too, although you judge I wink.

JULIA. Come, come; will’t please you go? Exeunt

SCENE III.

Verona. ANTONIO’S house

 

Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO

 

ANTONIO. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister?

PANTHINO. ‘Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son.

ANTONIO. Why, what of him?

PANTHINO. He wond’red that your lordship Would suffer him to spend his youth at home, While other men, of slender reputation, Put forth their sons to seek preferment out: Some to the wars, to try their fortune there; Some to discover islands far away;

Some to the studious universities.

For any, or for all these exercises,

He said that Proteus, your son, was meet; And did request me to importune you

To let him spend his time no more at home, Which would be great impeachment to his age, In having known no travel in his youth.

ANTONIO. Nor need’st thou much importune me to that Whereon this month I have been hammering.

I have consider’d well his loss of time, And how he cannot be a perfect man,

Not being tried and tutor’d in the world: Experience is by industry achiev’d,

And perfected by the swift course of time.

Then tell me whither were I best to send him.

PANTHINO. I think your lordship is not ignorant How his companion, youthful Valentine, Attends the Emperor in his royal court.

ANTONIO. I know it well.

PANTHINO. ‘Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither: There shall