Val. Your folly.
Thu. And how quote you my folly?
Val. I quote it in your jerkin.
Thu. My jerkin is a doublet.
Val. Well then I’ll double your folly.
Thu. How?
Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio? do you change color?
Val. Give him leave, madam, he is a kind of chameleon.
Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood than live in your air.
Val. You have said, sir.
Thu. Ay, sir, and done too—for this time.
Val. I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin.
Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off.
Val. ’Tis indeed, madam, we thank the giver.
Sil. Who is that, servant?
Val. Yourself, sweet lady, for you gave the fire. Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship’s looks, and spends what he borrows kindly in your company.
Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt.
Val. I know it well, sir; you have an exchequer of words and, I think, no other treasure to give your followers; for it appears by their bare liveries that they live by your bare words.
Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more; here comes my father.
[Enter] Duke.
Duke.
Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.
Sir Valentine, your father is in good health:
What say you to a letter from your friends
Of much good news?
Val.
My lord, I will be thankful
To any happy messenger from thence.
Duke.
Know ye Don Antonio, your countryman?
Val.
Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman
To be of worth and worthy estimation,
And not without desert so well reputed.
Duke.
Hath he not a son?
Val.
Ay, my good lord, a son that well deserves
The honor and regard of such a father.
Duke.
You know him well?
Val.
I knew him as myself: for from our infancy
We have convers’d and spent our hours together,
And though myself have been an idle truant,
Omitting the sweet benefit of time
To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection,
Yet hath Sir Proteus (for that’s his name)
Made use and fair advantage of his days;
His years but young, but his experience old;
His head unmellowed, but his judgment 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.
Duke.
Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this good,
He is as worthy for an empress’ love
As meet to be an emperor’s counsellor.
Well, sir—this gentleman is come to me
With commendation from great potentates,
And here he means to spend his time a while.
I think ’tis no unwelcome news to you.
Val.
Should I have wish’d a thing, it had been he.
Duke.
Welcome him then according to his worth—
Silvia, I speak to you, and you, Sir Thurio;
For Valentine, I need not cite him to it.
I will send him hither to you presently.
[Exit.]
Val.
This is the gentleman I told your ladyship
Had come along with me, but that his mistress
Did hold his eyes lock’d in her crystal looks.
Sil.
Belike that now she hath enfranchis’d them
Upon some other pawn for fealty.
Val.
Nay sure, I think she holds them prisoners still.
Sil.
Nay then he should be blind, and being blind,
How could he see his way to seek out you?
Val.
Why, lady, Love hath twenty pair of eyes.
Thu.
They say that Love hath not an eye at all.
Val.
To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself:
Upon a homely object Love can wink.
Sil.
Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman.
[Exit Thurio.]
[Enter] Proteus.
Val.
Welcome, dear Proteus! Mistress, I beseech you
Confirm his welcome with some special favor.
Sil.
His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,
If this be he you oft have wish’d to hear from.
Val.
Mistress, it is: sweet lady, entertain him
To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship.
Sil.
Too low a mistress for so high a servant.
Pro.
Not so, sweet lady, but too mean a servant
To have a look of such a worthy mistress.