The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 541
Those at her father’s churlish feet she tender’d,
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With them, upon her knees, her humble self,
Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them
As if but now they waxed pale for woe.
But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears
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Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire;
But Valentine, if he be ta’en, must die.
Besides, her intercession chaf’d him so,
When she for thy repeal was suppliant,
That to close prison he commanded her,
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With many bitter threats of biding there.
VALENTINE
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 dolour.
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PROTEUS Cease to lament for that thou canst 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.
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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 deliver’d
Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.
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The time now serves not to expostulate.
Come, I’ll convey thee through the city-gate,
And ere I part with thee, confer at large
Of all that may concern thy love-affairs.
As thou lov’st Silvia (though not for thyself)
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Regard thy danger, and along with me.
VALENTINE
I pray thee, Launce, and if thou seest my boy,
Bid him make haste, and meet me at the North Gate.
PROTEUS Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine.
VALENTINE O my dear Silvia! Hapless Valentine!
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Exeunt Proteus and Valentine.
LAUNCE 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
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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
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much in a bare Christian. [taking out a paper] Here is
the cate-log of her conditions. ‘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
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sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands.
Enter SPEED.
SPEED How now, Signor Launce! What news with your
mastership?
LAUNCE With my master’s ship? Why, it is at sea.
SPEED Well, your old vice still: mistake the word. What
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news, then, in your paper?
LAUNCE The black’st news that ever thou heard’st.
SPEED Why, man, how black?
LAUNCE Why, as black as ink.
SPEED Let me read them.
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LAUNCE Fie on thee, jolt-head, thou canst not read.
SPEED Thou lyest; I can.
LAUNCE I will try thee. Tell me this: who begot thee?
SPEED Marry, the son of my grandfather.
LAUNCE O illiterate loiterer! It was the son of thy
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grandmother. This proves that thou canst not read.
SPEED Come, fool, come; try me in thy paper.
LAUNCE [giving him the paper] There; and Saint
Nicholas be thy speed.
SPEED Imprimis, she can milk.
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LAUNCE Ay, that she can.
SPEED Item, she brews good ale.
LAUNCE And thereof comes the proverb: ‘Blessing of
your heart, you brew good ale.’
SPEED Item, she can sew.
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LAUNCE That’s as much as to say, ‘Can she so?’
SPEED Item, she can knit.
LAUNCE 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.
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LAUNCE A special virtue; for then she need not be
washed and scoured.
SPEED Item, she can spin.
LAUNCE Then may I set the world on wheels, when she
can spin for her living.
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SPEED Item, she hath many nameless virtues.
LAUNCE That’s as much as to say ‘bastard virtues’; that
indeed know not their fathers; and therefore have no
names.
SPEED Here follow her vices.
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LAUNCE Close at the heels of her virtues.
SPEED Item, she is not to be kissed fasting in respect of her
breath.
LAUNCE Well; that fault may be mended with a
breakfast. Read on.
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SPEED Item, she hath a sweet mouth.
LAUNCE That makes amends for her sour breath.
SPEED Item, she doth talk in her sleep.
LAUNCE It’s no matter for that; so she sleep not in her
talk.
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SPEED Item, she is slow in words.
LAUNCE 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.
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LAUNCE Out with that too: it was Eve’s legacy, and
cannot be ta’en from her.
SPEED Item, she hath no teeth.
LAUNCE I care not for that neither; because I love
crusts.
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SPEED Item, she is curst.
LAUNCE Well; the best is, she hath no teeth to bite.
SPEED Item, she will often praise her liquor.
LAUNCE If her liquor be good, she shall; if she will not,
I will; for good things should be praised.
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SPEED Item, she is too liberal.
LAUNCE Of her tongue she cannot, for that’s writ down
she is slow of; of her purse she shall not, for that I’ll
keep shut. Now, of another thing she may, and that
cannot I help. Well, proceed.
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SPEED Item, she hath more hair than wit, and more faults
than hairs, and more wealth than faults.
LAUNCE Stop there. I’ll have her. She was mine, and not
mine, twice or thrice in that last article. Rehearse
that once more.
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SPEED Item, she hath more hair than wit.
LAUNCE More hair than wit: it may be. I’ll prove it: the
cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it is
more than the salt; the hair that covers the wit is
more than the wit; for the greater hides the less.
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What’s next?
SPEED And more faults tha
n hairs.
LAUNCE That’s monstrous: O that were out!
SPEED And more wealth than faults.
LAUNCE Why, that word makes the faults gracious.
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Well, I’ll have her. And if it be a match, as nothing is
impossible –
SPEED What then?
LAUNCE Why, then will I tell thee that thy master stays
for thee at the North Gate.
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SPEED For me?
LAUNCE For thee? Ay, who art thou? He hath stayed for
a better man than thee.
SPEED And must I go to him?
LAUNCE Thou must run to him; for thou hast stayed so
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long that going will scarce serve the turn.
SPEED Why didst not tell me sooner? ’Pox of your love-
letters! Exit.
LAUNCE Now will he be swinged for reading my letter;
an unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into
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secrets. I’ll after, to rejoice in the boy’s correction.
Exit.
3.2 Enter DUKE and THURIO.
DUKE Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love you
Now Valentine is banish’d from her sight.
THURIO Since his exile she hath despis’d me most,
Forsworn my company, and rail’d at me,
That I am desperate of obtaining her.
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DUKE This weak impress of love is as a figure
Trenched in ice, which with an hour’s heat
Dissolves to water, and doth lose his form.
A little time will melt her frozen thoughts,
And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.
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Enter PROTEUS.
How now, Sir Proteus, is your countryman,
According to our proclamation, gone?
PROTEUS Gone, my good lord.
DUKE My daughter takes his going grievously?
PROTEUS A little time, my lord, will kill that grief.
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DUKE So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so.
PROTEUS, the good conceit I hold of thee
(For thou hast shown some sign of good desert)
Makes me the better to confer with thee.
PROTEUS Longer than I prove loyal to your grace
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Let me not live to look upon your grace.
DUKE Thou know’st how willingly I would effect
The match between Sir Thurio and my daughter?
PROTEUS I do, my lord.
DUKE And also, I think, thou art not ignorant
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How she opposes her against my will?
PROTEUS She did, my lord, when Valentine was here.
DUKE Ay, and perversely she persevers so.
What might we do to make the girl forget
The love of Valentine, and love Sir Thurio?
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PROTEUS The best way is to slander Valentine,
With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent:
Three things that women highly hold in hate.
DUKE Ay, but she’ll think that it is spoke in hate.
PROTEUS Ay, if his enemy deliver it.
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Therefore it must with circumstance be spoken
By one whom she esteemeth as his friend.
DUKE Then you must undertake to slander him.
PROTEUS And that, my lord, I shall be loath to do:
’Tis an ill office for a gentleman,
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Especially against his very friend.
DUKE Where your good word cannot advantage him,
Your slander never can endamage him;
Therefore the office is indifferent,
Being entreated to it by your friend.
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PROTEUS You have prevail’d, my lord: if I can do it
By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not long continue love to him.
But say this wind her love from Valentine,
It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio.
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THURIO Therefore, as you unwind her love from him,
Lest it should ravel, and be good to none,
You must provide to bottom it on me;
Which must be done by praising me as much
As you in worth dispraise Sir Valentine.
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DUKE And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind,
Because we know (on Valentine’s report)
You are already Love’s firm votary,
And cannot soon revolt, and change your mind.
Upon this warrant shall you have access
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Where you with Silvia may confer at large.
For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy,
And, for your friend’s sake, will be glad of you;
Where you may temper her, by your persuasion,
To hate young Valentine, and love my friend.