SPEED.
The conclusion is, then, that it will.
LAUNCE. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me but by a parable.
SPEED. ‘Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how sayest thou that my master is become a notable lover?
LAUNCE.
I never knew him otherwise.
SPEED.
Than how?
LAUNCE.
A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be.
SPEED.
Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistak’st me.
LAUNCE.
Why, fool, I meant not thee, I meant thy master.
SPEED.
I tell thee my master is become a hot lover.
LAUNCE.
Why, I tell thee I care not though he burn himself in love.
If thou wilt, go with me to the alehouse; if not, thou art an
Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian.
SPEED.
Why?
LAUNCE. Because thou hast not so much charity in thee as to go to the ale with a Christian. Wilt thou go?
SPEED.
At thy service.
[Exeunt.]
SCENE 6. The same. The DUKE’s palace.
[Enter PROTEUS.]
PROTEUS.
To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn;
To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn;
To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn;
And even that power which gave me first my oath
Provokes me to this threefold perjury:
Love bade me swear, and Love bids me forswear.
O sweet-suggesting Love! if thou hast sinn’d,
Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it.
At first I did adore a twinkling star,
But now I worship a celestial sun.
Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken;
And he wants wit that wants resolved will
To learn his wit t’ exchange the bad for better.
Fie, fie, unreverend tongue, to call her bad,
Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr’d
With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths.
I cannot leave to love, and yet I do;
But there I leave to love where I should love.
Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose;
If I keep them, I needs must lose myself;
If I lose them, thus find I by their loss,
For Valentine, myself; for Julia, Silvia.
I to myself am dearer than a friend,
For love is still most precious in itself;
And Silvia—witness heaven, that made her fair!—
Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.
I will forget that Julia is alive,
Remembering that my love to her is dead;
And Valentine I’ll hold an enemy,
Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.
I cannot now prove constant to myself
Without some treachery us’d to Valentine.
This night he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celestial Silvia’s chamber window,
Myself in counsel, his competitor.
Now presently I’ll give her father notice
Of their disguising and pretended flight;
Who, all enrag’d, will banish Valentine;
For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter;
But, Valentine being gone, I’ll quickly cross,
By some sly trick blunt Thurio’s dull proceeding.
Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift,
As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift!
[Exit.]
SCENE 7. Verona. A room in JULIA’S house.
[Enter JULIA and LUCETTA.]
JULIA.
Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me:
And, ev’n in kind love, I do conjure thee,
Who art the table wherein all my thoughts
Are visibly character’d and engrav’d,
To lesson me and tell me some good mean
How, with my honour, I may undertake
A journey to my loving Proteus.
LUCETTA.
Alas, the way is wearisome and long.
JULIA.
A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary
To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;
Much less shall she that hath Love’s wings to fly,
And when the flight is made to one so dear,
Of such divine perfection, as Sir Proteus.
LUCETTA.
Better forbear till Proteus make return.
JULIA.
O! know’st thou not his looks are my soul’s food?
Pity the dearth that I have pined in
By longing for that food so long a time.
Didst thou but know the inly touch of love.
Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow
As seek to quench the fire of love with words.
LUCETTA.
I do not seek to quench your love’s hot fire,
But qualify the fire’s extreme rage,
Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
JULIA.
The more thou damm’st it up, the more it burns.
The current that with gentle murmur glides,
Thou know’st, being stopp’d, impatiently doth rage;
But when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with th’ enamell’d stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;
And so by many winding nooks he strays,
With willing sport, to the wild ocean.
Then let me go, and hinder not my course.
I’ll be as patient as a gentle stream,
And make a pastime of each weary step,
Till the last step have brought me to my love;
And there I’ll rest as, after much turmoil,
A blessed soul doth in Elysium.
LUCETTA.
But in what habit will you go along?
JULIA.