Duke. But fhe did fcorn a prefent that I fent her.

Val. A woman fometime fcorns what beft contents her:

Send her another; never give her o'er;

For fcorn at firft makes after-love the more.
If the do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
But rather to beget more love in you:
If the do chide, 'tis not to have you gone;
For why, the fools are mad, if left alone.
Take no repulfe, whatever fhe doth fay;
For, get you gone, she doth not mean, away :
Flatter, and praife, commend, extol their graces;
Though ne'er fo black, fay, they have angels' faces.
That man that hath a tongue, I fay, is no man,
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

Duke. But the I mean, is promis'd by her friends
Unto a youthful gentleman of worth;

And kept feverely from refort of men,

That no man hath access by day to her.

Val. Why then I would refort 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 2, but one may enter at her window? Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground; And built fo fhelving, that one cannot climb it Without apparent hazard of his life.

Val. Why then, a ladder, quaintly made of cords, To caft up, with a pair of anchoring hooks,

Would ferve to fcale 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 fuch a ladder.

Val. When would you use it? pray, fir, tell me that. Duke. This very night; for love is like a child, That longs for every thing that he can come by. Val. By fever. o'clock I'll get you fuch a ladder. Duke. But hark thee; I will go to her alone; How shall I best convey the ladder thither?

Val. It will be light, my lord, that you may bear it Under a cloak, that is of any length.

2 What lets,] i. e. what hinders. STEEVENS.

L 2

Duke.

Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn?
Val. Ay, my good lord.

Duke. Then let me fee thy cloak;

I'll get me one of fuch another length.

Val. Why, any cloak will ferve the turn, my lord.
Duke. How fhall I fashion me to wear a cloak ?-

-

[reads

I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.-
What letter is this fame? What's here?-To Silvia?
And here an engine fit for my proceeding!
I'll be fo bold to break the feal for once.
My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly;
And flaves they are to me, that fend them flying:
O, could their mafter come and go as lightly,

Himfelf would lodge, where fenfelefs they are lying.
My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom reft them 3 ;
While I, their king, that thither them importune,
Do curfe the grace that with fuch grace hath bless'd them,
Because myself do want my fervants' fortune

I curfe myself, for they are fent by me+,

That they should harbour where their lord should be.
What's here?

Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee

'Tis fo; and here's the ladder for the purpose.
Why, Phaeton, (for thou art Merops' fon,)
Wilt thou afpire to guide the heavenly car,
And with thy daring folly burn the world?
Wilt thou reach ftars, because they shine on thee?
Go, bafe intruder! over-weening flave!
Beflow thy fawning fmiles on equal mates;
And think, my patience, more than thy defert,

3 My herald thoughts in thy pure bofom &c.] i. e. the thoughts conained in my letter. See p. 151, n. 9. MALONE.

for they are fent-] For is the fame as for that, fince. JOHNSON 5-- Merops' fon,) ] Thou art Phaeton in thy rafhnefs, but without his pretenfions; thou art not the fon of a divinity, but a terræ filius, a low-born wretch; Mcrops is thy true father, with whom Phaeton was Falfely reproached. JOHNSON.

This fcrap of mythology Shakspeare might have found in the spurius play of K. John, 1591:

as fometime Phaeton,

"Miftrusting filly Merops for his fire." STEEVENS,

Is privilege for thy departure hence:

Thank me for this, more than for all the favours,
Which, all too much, I have beftow'd on thee,

But if thou linger in my territories,

Longer than fwifteft expedition

Will give thee time to leave our royal court,

By heaven, my wrath fhall far exceed the love

I ever bore my daughter, or thyself.

Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excufe,

But, as thou lov't thy life, make fpeed from hence.

[Exit Duke.
Val. And why not death, rather than living torment?
To die, is to be banish'd from myself;
And Silvia is myfelf: banish'd from her,
Is felf from felf; a deadly banishment!
What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by ?
Unless it be, to think that fhe is by,
And feed upon the fhadow of perfection.
Except I be by Silvia in the night,
There is no mufick in the nightingale;
Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
There is no day for me to look upon:
She is my effence; and I leave to be,
If I be not by her fair influence

Fofter'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive.
I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom":
Tarry
I here, I but attend on death
But, fly I hence, I fly away from life.

;

Enter PROTHEUS and LAUNCE,

Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out,

Launce. So-ho! fo-ho!

Pro. What fee't thou?

And feed upon the shadow of perfection.]

Animum pictura pafcit inani. Virg. HENLEY.

I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:] To Ay bis doom, used for by flying, or in flying, is a gallicifm. The fenfe is, By avoiding the execution of his fentence I fhall not escape death, If I ftay here, I fuffer myself to be destroyed; if I go away, I destroy myself. JOHNSON.

Launce

Launce. 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.

Launce. Can nothing speak? mafter, fhall I ftrike? Pro. Whom would'ft thou ftrike?

Launce. Nothing.

Pro. Villain, forbear.

Launce. Why, fir, I'll ftrike nothing: I pray you,Pro. Sirrah, I fay, 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 filence will I bury mine, For they are harsh, untuneable, and bad.

Val. Is Silvia dead?

Pro. No, Valentine.

Val. No Valentine, indeed, for facred Silvia!Hath fhe forfworn me?

Pro. No, Valentine.

Val. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me !— What is your news?

Launce. Sir, there's a proclamation that you are vanish'd.
Pro. That thou art banish'd, O, that is the news,
From hence, from Silvia, and from me thy friend.
Val. O, I have fed upon this woe already,

And now excefs of it will make me furfeit.
Doth Silvia know that I am banished?

Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom,
(Which, unrevers'd, ftands in effectual force,)
A fea of melting pearl, which fome call tears:
Thofe at her father's churlish feet the tender'd;
With them, upon her knees, her humble felf;
Wringing her hands, whofe whitenefs fo became them,

There's not a bair-] Launce is ftill quibbling. He is now running down the bare that he started when he entered. MALONE. Whom-] Old Copy-Who. Corrected in the second folio, MALONE.

As

As if but now they waxed pale for woe:

But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad fighs, deep groans, nor filver-shedding tears,
Could penetrate her uncompaffionate fire;
But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die.
Befides, her interceffion chafed him so,
When the for thy repeal was fuppliant,
That to close prifon he commanded her,
With many bitter threats of 'biding there.

Val. No more; unless the next word, that thou speak'ft, Have fome malignant power upon my life:

If fo, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear,

As ending anthem of my endless dolour.

Pro. Ceafe to lament for that thou canst not help,
And study help for that which thou lament'ft.
Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
Here if thou ftay, thou canst not fee thy love;
Befides, thy ftaying will abridge thy life.
Hope is a lover's ftaff; walk hence with that,
And manage it against defpairing thoughts.
Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence;
Which, being writ to me, fhall be deliver'd
Even in the milk-white bofom of thy love.
The time now ferves not to expoftulate :
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't Silvia, though not for thyself,
Regard thy danger, and along with me.

Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou feeft my boy,

9 Even in the milk-white bofom of thy love.] So, in Hamlet:

"Thefe to ber excellent white bofom, &c."

Trifling as the remark may appear, before the meaning of this addrefs of letters to the bofom of a miftrefs can be understood, it should be known that women anciently had a pocket in the fore part of their ftays, in which they not only carried love-letters and love tokens, but even their money and materials for needle-work. In many parts of England the ruftic damfels ftill obferve the fame practice; and a very old lady informs me that the remembers when it was the fashion to wear very prominent ftays, it was no less the custom for ftratagem or gallantry to drop its literary favours within the front of them. STEEVENS. L 4

Bid