No More Learning

Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.
JULIA. They do not love that do not show their love.
LUCETTA. O, they love least that let men know their love.
JULIA. I would I knew his mind.
LUCETTA. Peruse this paper, madam.
JULIA. 'To Julia'- Say, from whom?
LUCETTA. That the contents will show.
JULIA. Say, say, who gave it thee?
LUCETTA. Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from Proteus.
He would have given it you; but I, being in the way,
Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault, I pray.
JULIA. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker!
Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines?
To whisper and conspire against my youth?
Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth,
And you an officer fit for the place.
There, take the paper; see it be return'd;
Or else return no more into my sight.
LUCETTA. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.
JULIA. Will ye be gone?
LUCETTA. That you may ruminate. Exit
JULIA. And yet, I would I had o'erlook'd the letter.
It were a shame to call her back again,
And pray her to a fault for which I chid her.
What fool is she, that knows I am a maid
And would not force the letter to my view!
Since maids, in modesty, say 'No' to that
Which they would have the profferer construe 'Ay. '
Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love,
That like a testy babe will scratch the nurse,
And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod!
How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,
When willingly I would have had her here!
How angerly I taught my brow to frown,
When inward joy enforc'd my heart to smile!
My penance is to call Lucetta back
And ask remission for my folly past.
What ho! Lucetta!

Re-enter LUCETTA

LUCETTA. What would your ladyship?
JULIA. Is't near dinner time?
LUCETTA. I would it were,
That you might kill your stomach on your meat
And not upon your maid.
JULIA. What is't that you took up so gingerly?
LUCETTA. Nothing.
JULIA. Why didst thou stoop then?
LUCETTA. To take a paper up that I let fall.
JULIA. And is that paper nothing?
LUCETTA. Nothing concerning me.
JULIA. Then let it lie for those that it concerns.
LUCETTA. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns,
Unless it have a false interpreter.
JULIA. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme.
LUCETTA. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune.
Give me a note; your ladyship can set.
JULIA. As little by such toys as may be possible.
Best sing it to the tune of 'Light o' Love. '
LUCETTA. It is too heavy for so light a tune.
JULIA. Heavy! belike it hath some burden then.
LUCETTA. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it.
JULIA. And why not you?
LUCETTA. I cannot reach so high.
JULIA. Let's see your song. [LUCETTA withholds the letter]
How now, minion!
LUCETTA. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out.
And yet methinks I do not like this tune.
JULIA. You do not!
LUCETTA. No, madam; 'tis too sharp.
JULIA. You, minion, are too saucy.
LUCETTA. Nay, now you are too flat
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant;
There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.
JULIA. The mean is drown'd with your unruly bass.
LUCETTA. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.
JULIA. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.
Here is a coil with protestation! [Tears the letter]
Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie.
You would be fing'ring them, to anger me.
LUCETTA. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleas'd
To be so ang'red with another letter. Exit
JULIA. Nay, would I were so ang'red with the same!
O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!
Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey
And kill the bees that yield it with your stings!
I'll kiss each several paper for amends.
Look, here is writ 'kind Julia. ' Unkind Julia,
As in revenge of thy ingratitude,
I throw thy name against the bruising stones,
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.
And here is writ 'love-wounded Proteus. '
Poor wounded name! my bosom,,as a bed,
Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd;
And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
But twice or thrice was 'Proteus' written down.
Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away
Till I have found each letter in the letter-
Except mine own name; that some whirlwind bear
Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock,
And throw it thence into the raging sea.
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ:
'Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia. ' That I'll tear away;
And yet I will not, sith so prettily
He couples it to his complaining names.
Thus will I fold them one upon another;
Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.

Re-enter LUCETTA

LUCETTA. Madam,
Dinner is ready, and your father stays.
JULIA. Well, let us go.
LUCETTA. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here?
JULIA. If you respect them, best to take them up.
LUCETTA. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down;
Yet here they shall not lie for catching cold.
JULIA. I see you have a month's mind to them.
LUCETTA. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see;
I see things too, although you judge I wink.
JULIA. Come, come; will't please you go? Exeunt




SCENE III.
Verona. ANTONIO'S house

Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO

ANTONIO. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that
Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister?
PANTHINO. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son.
ANTONIO. Why, what of him?
PANTHINO. He wond'red that your lordship
Would suffer him to spend his youth at home,
While other men, of slender reputation,
Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:
Some to the wars, to try their fortune there;
Some to discover islands far away;
Some to the studious universities.
For any, or for all these exercises,
He said that Proteus, your son, was meet;
And did request me to importune you
To let him spend his time no more at home,
Which would be great impeachment to his age,
In having known no travel in his youth.
ANTONIO. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that
Whereon this month I have been hammering.
I have consider'd well his loss of time,
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being tried and tutor'd in the world:
Experience is by industry achiev'd,
And perfected by the swift course of time.
Then tell me whither were I best to send him.
PANTHINO. I think your lordship is not ignorant
How his companion, youthful Valentine,
Attends the Emperor in his royal court.
ANTONIO. I know it well.
PANTHINO. 'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither:
There shall he practise tilts and tournaments,
Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen,
And be in eye of every exercise
Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.
ANTONIO. I like thy counsel; well hast thou advis'd;
And that thou mayst perceive how well I like it,
The execution of it shall make known:
Even with the speediest expedition
I will dispatch him to the Emperor's court.
PANTHINO. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso
With other gentlemen of good esteem
Are journeying to salute the Emperor,
And to commend their service to his will.
ANTONIO. Good company; with them shall Proteus go.

Enter PROTEUS

And- in good time! - now will we break with him.
PROTEUS. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life!
Here is her hand, the agent of her heart;
Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn.
O that our fathers would applaud our loves,
To seal our happiness with their consents!
O heavenly Julia!
ANTONIO. How now! What letter are you reading there?
PROTEUS. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two
Of commendations sent from Valentine,
Deliver'd by a friend that came from him.
ANTONIO. Lend me the letter; let me see what news.
PROTEUS. There is no news, my lord; but that he writes
How happily he lives, how well-belov'd
And daily graced by the Emperor;
Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.
ANTONIO. And how stand you affected to his wish?
PROTEUS. As one relying on your lordship's will,
And not depending on his friendly wish.
ANTONIO. My will is something sorted with his wish.
Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed;
For what I will, I will, and there an end.
I am resolv'd that thou shalt spend some time
With Valentinus in the Emperor's court;
What maintenance he from his friends receives,
Like exhibition thou shalt have from me.
To-morrow be in readiness to go-
Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.
PROTEUS. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided;
Please you, deliberate a day or two.
ANTONIO. Look what thou want'st shall be sent after thee.
No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.
Come on, Panthino; you shall be employ'd
To hasten on his expedition.
Exeunt ANTONIO and PANTHINO
PROTEUS. Thus have I shunn'd the fire for fear of burning,
And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd.
I fear'd to show my father Julia's letter,
Lest he should take exceptions to my love;
And with the vantage of mine own excuse
Hath he excepted most against my love.
O, how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day,
Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,
And by an by a cloud takes all away!

Re-enter PANTHINO

PANTHINO. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you;
He is in haste; therefore, I pray you, go.
PROTEUS. Why, this it is: my heart accords thereto;
And yet a thousand times it answers 'No. ' Exeunt




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ACT II. SCENE I.
Milan. The DUKE'S palace

Enter VALENTINE and SPEED

SPEED. Sir, your glove.
VALENTINE. Not mine: my gloves are on.
SPEED. Why, then, this may be yours; for this is but one.
VALENTINE. Ha! let me see; ay, give it me, it's mine;
Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine!
Ah, Silvia! Silvia!
SPEED. [Calling] Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia!
VALENTINE. How now, sirrah?
SPEED. She is not within hearing, sir.
VALENTINE. Why, sir, who bade you call her?
SPEED. Your worship, sir; or else I mistook.
VALENTINE. Well, you'll still be too forward.
SPEED. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow.
VALENTINE. Go to, sir; tell me, do you know Madam Silvia?
SPEED. She that your worship loves?
VALENTINE. Why, how know you that I am in love?
SPEED. Marry, by these special marks: first, you have learn'd, like
Sir Proteus, to wreath your arms like a malcontent; to relish a
love-song, like a robin redbreast; to walk alone, like one that
had the pestilence; to sigh, like a school-boy that had lost his
A B C; to weep, like a young wench that had buried her grandam;
to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one that fears
robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were
wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you walk'd, to
walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently
after dinner; when you look'd sadly, it was for want of money.
And now you are metamorphis'd with a mistress, that, when I look
on you, I can hardly think you my master.
VALENTINE. Are all these things perceiv'd in me?
SPEED. They are all perceiv'd without ye.
VALENTINE. Without me? They cannot.
SPEED. Without you! Nay, that's certain; for, without you were so
simple, none else would; but you are so without these follies
that these follies are within you, and shine through you like the
water in an urinal, that not an eye that sees you but is a
physician to comment on your malady.
VALENTINE. But tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia?
SPEED. She that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper?
VALENTINE. Hast thou observ'd that? Even she, I mean.
SPEED. Why, sir, I know her not.
VALENTINE. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet know'st
her not?
SPEED. Is she not hard-favour'd, sir?
VALENTINE. Not so fair, boy, as well-favour'd.
SPEED. Sir, I know that well enough.
VALENTINE. What dost thou know?
SPEED. That she is not so fair as, of you, well-favour'd.
VALENTINE. I mean that her beauty is exquisite, but her favour
infinite.
SPEED. That's because the one is painted, and the other out of all
count.
VALENTINE. How painted? and how out of count?
SPEED. Marry, sir, so painted, to make her fair, that no man counts
of her beauty.
VALENTINE. How esteem'st thou me? I account of her beauty.
SPEED. You never saw her since she was deform'd.
VALENTINE. How long hath she been deform'd?
SPEED. Ever since you lov'd her.
VALENTINE. I have lov'd her ever since I saw her, and still
I see her beautiful.
SPEED. If you love her, you cannot see her.
VALENTINE. Why?
SPEED. Because Love is blind. O that you had mine eyes; or your own
eyes had the lights they were wont to have when you chid at Sir
Proteus for going ungarter'd!
VALENTINE. What should I see then?
SPEED. Your own present folly and her passing deformity; for he,
being in love, could not see to garter his hose; and you, being
in love, cannot see to put on your hose.
VALENTINE. Belike, boy, then you are in love; for last morning you
could not see to wipe my shoes.
SPEED. True, sir; I was in love with my bed. I thank you, you
swing'd me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you
for yours.
VALENTINE. In conclusion, I stand affected to her.
SPEED. I would you were set, so your affection would cease.
VALENTINE. Last night she enjoin'd me to write some lines to one
she loves.
SPEED. And have you?
VALENTINE. I have.
SPEED. Are they not lamely writ?
VALENTINE. No, boy, but as well as I can do them.

Enter SILVIA

Peace! here she comes.
SPEED. [Aside] O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet!
Now will he interpret to her.
VALENTINE. Madam and mistress, a thousand good morrows.
SPEED. [Aside] O, give ye good ev'n!
Here's a million of manners.
SILVIA. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand.
SPEED. [Aside] He should give her interest, and she gives it him.
VALENTINE. As you enjoin'd me, I have writ your letter
Unto the secret nameless friend of yours;
Which I was much unwilling to proceed in,
But for my duty to your ladyship.
SILVIA. I thank you, gentle servant. 'Tis very clerkly done.
VALENTINE. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off;
For, being ignorant to whom it goes,
I writ at random, very doubtfully.
SILVIA. Perchance you think too much of so much pains?
VALENTINE. No, madam; so it stead you, I will write,
Please you command, a thousand times as much;
And yet-
SILVIA. A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel;
And yet I will not name it- and yet I care not.
And yet take this again- and yet I thank you-
Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more.
SPEED. [Aside] And yet you will; and yet another' yet. '
VALENTINE. What means your ladyship? Do you not like it?
SILVIA. Yes, yes; the lines are very quaintly writ;
But, since unwillingly, take them again.
Nay, take them. [Gives hack the letter]
VALENTINE. Madam, they are for you.
SILVIA. Ay, ay, you writ them, sir, at my request;
But I will none of them; they are for you:
I would have had them writ more movingly.
VALENTINE. Please you, I'll write your ladyship another.
SILVIA. And when it's writ, for my sake read it over;
And if it please you, so; if not, why, so.
VALENTINE. If it please me, madam, what then?
SILVIA. Why, if it please you, take it for your labour.
And so good morrow, servant. Exit SILVIA
SPEED. O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible,
As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple!
My master sues to her; and she hath taught her suitor,
He being her pupil, to become her tutor.
O excellent device! Was there ever heard a better,
That my master, being scribe, to himself should write the letter?
VALENTINE. How now, sir! What are you reasoning with yourself?
SPEED. Nay, I was rhyming: 'tis you that have the reason.
VALENTINE. To do what?
SPEED. To be a spokesman from Madam Silvia?
VALENTINE. To whom?
SPEED. To yourself; why, she woos you by a figure.
VALENTINE. What figure?
SPEED.