Shakespeare's First Folio Part 24

Thu. How?

Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio, do you change colour?

Val. Giue him leaue, Madam, he is a kind of Camelion

Thu. That hath more minde to feed on your bloud, then liue in your ayre

Val. You haue said Sir

Thu. I Sir, and done too for this time

Val. I know it wel sir, you alwaies end ere you begin

Sil. A fine volly of words, gentleme[n], & quickly shot off Val. 'Tis indeed, Madam, we thank the giuer

Sil. Who is that Seruant?

Val. Your selfe (sweet Lady) for you gaue the fire, Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your Ladiships lookes, And spends what he borrowes 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 haue an Exchequer of words, And I thinke, no other treasure to giue your followers: For it appeares by their bare Liueries That they liue by your bare words

Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more: Here comes my father

Duk. Now, daughter Siluia, you are hard beset.

Sir Valentine, your father is in good health, What say you to a Letter from your friends Of much good newes?

Val. My Lord, I will be thankfull, To any happy messenger from thence

Duk. Know ye Don Antonio, your Countriman?

Val. I, my good Lord, I know the Gentleman To be of worth, and worthy estimation, And not without desert so well reputed

Duk. Hath he not a Sonne?

Val. I, my good Lord, a Son, that well deserues The honor, and regard of such a father

Duk. You know him well?

Val. I knew him as my selfe: for from our Infancie We haue conuerst, and spent our howres together, And though my selfe haue beene an idle Trewant, Omitting the sweet benefit of time To cloath mine age with Angel-like perfection: Yet hath Sir Protheus (for that's his name) Made vse, and faire aduantage of his daies: His yeares but yong, but his experience old: His head vn-mellowed, but his Iudgement ripe; And in a word (for far behinde his worth Comes all the praises that I now bestow.) He is compleat in feature, and in minde, With all good grace, to grace a Gentleman

Duk. Beshrew me sir, but if he make this good He is as worthy for an Empresse loue, As meet to be an Emperors Councellor: Well, Sir: this Gentleman is come to me With Commendation from great Potentates, And heere he meanes to spend his time a while, I thinke 'tis no vn-welcome newes to you

Val. Should I haue wish'd a thing, it had beene he

Duk. Welcome him then according to his worth: Siluia, I speake to you, and you Sir Thurio, For Valentine, I need not cite him to it, I will send him hither to you presently

Val. This is the Gentleman I told your Ladiship Had come along with me, but that his Mistresse Did hold his eyes, lockt in her Christall lookes

Sil. Be-like that now she hath enfranchis'd them Vpon some other p.a.w.ne for fealty

Val. Nay sure, I thinke she holds them prisoners stil

Sil. Nay then he should be blind, and being blind How could he see his way to seeke out you?

Val. Why Lady, Loue hath twenty paire of eyes

Thur. They say that Loue hath not an eye at all

Val. To see such Louers, Thurio, as your selfe, Vpon a homely obiect, Loue can winke

Sil. Haue done, haue done: here comes y gentleman

Val. Welcome, deer Protheus: Mistris, I beseech you Confirme his welcome, with some speciall fauor

Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hether, If this be he you oft haue wish'd to heare from

Val. Mistris, it is: sweet Lady, entertaine him To be my fellow-seruant to your Ladiship

Sil. Too low a Mistres for so high a seruant

Pro. Not so, sweet Lady, but too meane a seruant To haue a looke of such a worthy a Mistresse

Val. Leaue off discourse of disabilitie: Sweet Lady, entertaine him for your Seruant

Pro. My dutie will I boast of, nothing else

Sil. And dutie neuer yet did want his meed.

Seruant, you are welcome to a worthlesse Mistresse

Pro. Ile die on him that saies so but your selfe

Sil. That you are welcome?

Pro. That you are worthlesse

Thur. Madam, my Lord your father wold speak with you

Sil. I wait vpon his pleasure: Come Sir Thurio, Goe with me: once more, new Seruant welcome; Ile leaue you to confer of home affaires, When you haue done, we looke too heare from you

Pro. Wee'll both attend vpon your Ladiship

Val. Now tell me: how do al from whence you came?

Pro. Your frends are wel, & haue the[m] much co[m]mended

Val. And how doe yours?

Pro. I left them all in health

Val. How does your Lady? & how thriues your loue?

Pro. My tales of Loue were wont to weary you, I know you ioy not in a Loue-discourse

Val. I Protheus, but that life is alter'd now, I haue done pennance for contemning Loue, Whose high emperious thoughts haue punish'd me With bitter fasts, with penitentiall grones, With nightly teares, and daily hart-sore sighes, For in reuenge of my contempt of loue, Loue hath chas'd sleepe from my enthralled eyes, And made them watchers of mine owne hearts sorrow.

O gentle Protheus, Loue's a mighty Lord, And hath so humbled me, as I confesse There is no woe to his correction, Nor to his Seruice, no such ioy on earth: Now, no discourse, except it be of loue: Now can I breake my fast, dine, sup, and sleepe, Vpon the very naked name of Loue

Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye: Was this the Idoll, that you worship so?

Val. Euen She; and is she not a heauenly Saint?