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Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward,
Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty;
Val. What would your grace have me to do in this?
Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan, here,
Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words;
Val. A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her.
Send her another; never give her o'er;
Though ne'er so black, say, they have angels' faces.
Unto a youthful gentleman of worth;
Val. Why then I would resort 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, but one may enter at her window?
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,
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
Under a cloak, that is of any length.
Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the
Then let me see thy cloak:
Duke. I'll get me one of such another length. Val. Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord.
Duke. How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak?-I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me. What letter is this same? What's here-To Silvia? And here an engine fit for my proceeding! I'll be so bold to break the seal for once. [reads.
My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly;
And slaves they are to me, that send them flying: O, could their master come and go as lightly, Himself would lodge, where senseless they are lying.
My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them, While I, their king, that thither them impórtune, Do curse the grace that with such grace hath bless'd them,
Because myself do want my servants' fortune: I curse myself, for they are sent by me, That they should harbour where their lord should
Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee:
'Tis so and here's the ladder for the purpose.-
Will give thee time to leave our royal court,
By heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the love
[Exit Duke. Val. And why not death, rather than living torment?
To die, is to be banish'd from myself;
Enter Proteus and Launce.
Pro, Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out.
Pro. What seest thou?
Laun. Him we go to find; there's not a hair On's head, but 'tis a Valentine.
Pro. Who then? his spirit?
Pro. What then?
Laun. Can nothing speak? master, shall I strike?
Laun. Why, sir, I'll strike nothing:
Pro. Sirrah, I say, forbear: friend Valentine, a word.
Val. My ears are stopp'd, and cannot hear
So much of bad already hath possess'd them.
Pro. No, Valentine.
Val. No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia !Hath she forsworn me?
Pro. No, Valentine.
Val. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me!
What is your news?
Laun. Sir, there's a proclamation that you are vanish'd.
Pro. That thou art banish'd, O, that's the news;
From hence, from Silvia, and from me thy friend.
Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom (Which, unrevers'd, stands in effectual force) A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears: Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd; With them, upon her knees, her humble self; Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them,
As if but now they waxed pale for wo: