Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go. Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear: Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men. Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that wrong, [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I.-Milan. An anti-room in the Duke's palace. Enter Duke, Thurio, and Proteus. Duke. Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile; (1) Longed for. We have some secrets to confer about. [Exit Thurio. Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me? Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would dis cover, The law of friendship bids me to conceal : Which else no worldly good should draw from me. Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care; (1) Guess. (2) Tempted. Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean How he her chamber-window will ascend, Pro. Adieu, my lord; sir Valentine is coming. Enter Valentine. [Exit. Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? Val. Please it your grace, there is a messenger That stays to bear my letters to my friends, And I am going to deliver them. Duke. Be they of much import? Val. The tenor of them doth but signify My health, and happy being at your court. Duke. Nay, then no matter; stay with me awhile; I am to break with thee of some affairs, match Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentle man Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities VOL. I. (1) Guessed. (2) Design. F Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, fro ward, Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty; Neither regarding that she is my child, Nor fearing me as if I were her father; And, may I say to thee, this pride of hers Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her; And, where I thought the remnant of mine age Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty, I now am full resolved to take a wife, And turn her out to who will take her in: Then let her beauty be her wedding-dower; For me and my possessions she esteems not. Val. What would your grace have me to do in this? Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan, here, Whom I affect; but she is nice, and coy, And nought esteems my aged eloquence: Now, therefore, would I have thee to my tutor (For long agone I have forgot to court: Besides, the fashion of the time is chang'd;) How, and which way, I may bestow myself, To be regarded in her sun-bright eye. Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words; Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, More than quick words, do move a woman's mind. Duke. But she did scorn a present that I sent her. Val. A woman sometimes scorns what best con tents her. Send her another; never give her o'er; Duke. But she, I mean, is promis'd by her friends Unto a youthful gentleman of worth; Val. Why then I would resort to her by night. kept safe, That no man hath recourse to her by night. Val. What lets, but one may enter at her win dow? Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground; And built so shelving that one cannot climb it Without apparent hazard of his life. Val. Why then, a ladder, quaintly made of cords, To cast up with a pair of anchoring hooks, Duke. Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood, Advise me where I may have such a ladder. that. Val. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell me Duke. This very night; for love is like a child, That longs for every thing that he can come by. Val. By seven o'clock I'll get you such 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. Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn? Val. Ay, my good lord. (1) Hinders.. |