« PreviousContinue »
Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy`master is shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? why weepest thou, man? Away, ass; you will lose the tide, if you tarry any longer.
Laun. It is no matter if the ty'd were lost; for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever any man ty'd.
Pan. What's the unkindest tide?
Laun. Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my dog. Pan. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lose the flood; and, in losing the flood, lose thy voyage; and, in losing thy voyage, lose thy master; and, in losing thy master, lose thy service; and, in losing thy service,-Why dost thou stop my mouth?
Laun. For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue. Pan. Where should I lose my tongue? Laun. In thy tale. Pan. In thy tail? Laun. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service? The tide !-Why, man, if the river were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the wind were down, I could drive the boat with my sighs.
Pan. Come, come away, man; I was sent to call
Laun. Sir, call me what thou darest.
Pan. Wilt thou go?
Laun. Well, I will go.
Milan. An Apartment in the Duke's Palace.
Enter VALENTINE, SILVIA, THURIO, and SPEED.
Speed. Master, sir Thurio frowns on you.
Val. Ay, boy, it's for love.
Speed. Not of you.
Speed. 'Twere good, you knocked him.
Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so.
Thu. Seem you that you are not?
Thu. So do counterfeits.
Val. So do you.
Thu. What seem I, that I am not?
Thu. What instance of the contrary?
Thu. And how quote 4 you my folly?
Val. I quote it in your jerkin.
Thu. My jerkin is a doublet.
Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly.
Sil. What, angry, sir Thurio? do you change colour?
2 Serious. VOL. I.
Val. Give him leave madam; he is a kind of cameleon.
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
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.
Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset. Sir Valentine, your father's 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 you 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 honour 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;
Duke. Beshrew5 me, sir, but, if he make this good,
Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he.
5 Ill betide.
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?
Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman.
Val. Welcome, dear Proteus!-Mistress, I beseech you,
Confirm his welcome with some special favour.
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.
Val. Leave off discourse of disability :Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant. Pro. My duty will I boast of, nothing else. Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed;