No More Learning

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. By a letter, I should say.
VALENTINE. Why, she hath not writ to me.
SPEED. What need she, when she hath made you write to yourself?
Why, do you not perceive the jest?
VALENTINE. No, believe me.
SPEED. No believing you indeed, sir. But did you perceive her
earnest?
VALENTINE. She gave me none except an angry word.
SPEED. Why, she hath given you a letter.
VALENTINE. That's the letter I writ to her friend.
SPEED. And that letter hath she deliver'd, and there an end.
VALENTINE. I would it were no worse.
SPEED. I'll warrant you 'tis as well.
'For often have you writ to her; and she, in modesty,
Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply;
Or fearing else some messenger that might her mind discover,
Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover. '
All this I speak in print, for in print I found it. Why muse you,
sir? 'Tis dinner time.
VALENTINE. I have din'd.
SPEED. Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can feed on
the air, I am one that am nourish'd by my victuals, and would
fain have meat. O, be not like your mistress! Be moved, be moved.
Exeunt




SCENE II.
Verona. JULIA'S house

Enter PROTEUS and JULIA

PROTEUS. Have patience, gentle Julia.
JULIA. I must, where is no remedy.
PROTEUS. When possibly I can, I will return.
JULIA. If you turn not, you will return the sooner.
Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake.
[Giving a ring]
PROTEUS. Why, then, we'll make exchange. Here, take you this.
JULIA. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss.
PROTEUS. Here is my hand for my true constancy;
And when that hour o'erslips me in the day
Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake,
The next ensuing hour some foul mischance
Torment me for my love's forgetfulness!
My father stays my coming; answer not;
The tide is now- nay, not thy tide of tears:
That tide will stay me longer than I should.
Julia, farewell! Exit JULIA
What, gone without a word?
Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak;
For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.

Enter PANTHINO

PANTHINO. Sir Proteus, you are stay'd for.
PROTEUS. Go; I come, I come.
Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb. Exeunt




SCENE III.
Verona. A street

Enter LAUNCE, leading a dog

LAUNCE. Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the
kind of the Launces have this very fault. I have receiv'd my
proportion, like the Prodigious Son, and am going with Sir
Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think Crab my dog be the
sourest-natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father
wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her
hands, and all our house in a great perplexity; yet did not this
cruel-hearted cur shed one tear. He is a stone, a very pebble
stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog. A Jew would have
wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam having no eyes,
look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll show you
the manner of it. This shoe is my father; no, this left shoe is
my father; no, no, left shoe is my mother; nay, that cannot be so
neither; yes, it is so, it is so, it hath the worser sole. This
shoe with the hole in it is my mother, and this my father.
A
vengeance on 't! There 'tis. Now, sir, this staff is my sister,
for, look you, she is as white as a lily and as small as a wand;
this hat is Nan our maid; I am the dog; no, the dog is himself,
and I am the dog- O, the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so.
Now come I to my father: 'Father, your blessing. ' Now should not
the shoe speak a word for weeping; now should I kiss my father;
well, he weeps on. Now come I to my mother. O that she could
speak now like a wood woman! Well, I kiss her- why there 'tis;
here's my mother's breath up and down. Now come I to my sister;
mark the moan she makes. Now the dog all this while sheds not a
tear, nor speaks a word; but see how I lay the dust with my
tears.

Enter PANTHINO

PANTHINO. Launce, away, away, aboard! Thy master is shipp'd, and
thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? Why weep'st
thou, man? Away, ass! You'll lose the tide if you tarry any
longer.
LAUNCE. It is no matter if the tied were lost; for it is the
unkindest tied that ever any man tied.
PANTHINO. What's the unkindest tide?
LAUNCE. Why, he that's tied here, Crab, my dog.
PANTHINO. 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?
LAUNCE. For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue.
PANTHINO. Where should I lose my tongue?
LAUNCE. In thy tale.
PANTHINO. In thy tail!
LAUNCE. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the
service, and the tied! 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.
PANTHINO. Come, come away, man; I was sent to call thee.
LAUNCE. Sir, call me what thou dar'st.
PANTHINO. Will thou go?
LAUNCE. Well, I will go. Exeunt




SCENE IV.
Milan. The DUKE'S palace

Enter SILVIA, VALENTINE, THURIO, and SPEED

SILVIA. Servant!
VALENTINE. Mistress?
SPEED. Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you.
VALENTINE. Ay, boy, it's for love.
SPEED. Not of you.
VALENTINE. Of my mistress, then.
SPEED. 'Twere good you knock'd him. Exit
SILVIA. Servant, you are sad.
VALENTINE. Indeed, madam, I seem so.
THURIO. Seem you that you are not?
VALENTINE. Haply I do.
THURIO. So do counterfeits.
VALENTINE. So do you.
THURIO. What seem I that I am not?
VALENTINE. Wise.
THURIO. What instance of the contrary?
VALENTINE. Your folly.
THURIO. And how quote you my folly?
VALENTINE. I quote it in your jerkin.
THURIO. My jerkin is a doublet.
VALENTINE. Well, then, I'll double your folly.
THURIO. How?
SILVIA. What, angry, Sir Thurio! Do you change colour?
VALENTINE. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of chameleon.
THURIO. That hath more mind to feed on your blood than live in your
air.
VALENTINE. You have said, sir.
THURIO. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time.
VALENTINE. I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin.
SILVIA. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off.
VALENTINE. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver.
SILVIA. Who is that, servant?
VALENTINE. 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 company.
THURIO. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your
wit bankrupt.
VALENTINE. 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.

Enter DUKE

SILVIA. No more, gentlemen, no more. Here comes my father.
DUKE. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.
Sir Valentine, your father is in good health.
What say you to a letter from your friends
Of much good news?
VALENTINE. My lord, I will be thankful
To any happy messenger from thence.
DUKE. Know ye Don Antonio, your countryman?
VALENTINE. 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?
VALENTINE. Ay, my good lord; a son that well deserves
The honour and regard of such a father.
DUKE. You know him well?
VALENTINE. 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,
Yet hath Sir Proteus, for that's his name,
Made use and fair advantage of his days:
His years but young, but his experience old;
His head unmellowed, but his judgment ripe;
And, in a word, for far behind his worth
Comes all the praises that I now bestow,
He is complete in feature and in mind,
With all good grace to grace a gentleman.
DUKE. Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this good,
He is as worthy for an empress' love
As meet to be an emperor's counsellor.
Well, sir, this gentleman is come to me
With commendation from great potentates,
And here he means to spend his time awhile.
I think 'tis no unwelcome news to you.
VALENTINE. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he.
DUKE. Welcome him, then, according to his worth-
Silvia, I speak to you, and you, Sir Thurio;
For Valentine, I need not cite him to it.
I will send him hither to you presently. Exit DUKE
VALENTINE. This is the gentleman I told your ladyship
Had come along with me but that his mistresss
Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks.
SILVIA. Belike that now she hath enfranchis'd them
Upon some other pawn for fealty.
VALENTINE. Nay, sure, I think she holds them prisoners still.
SILVIA. Nay, then, he should be blind; and, being blind,
How could he see his way to seek out you?
VALENTINE. Why, lady, Love hath twenty pair of eyes.
THURIO. They say that Love hath not an eye at all.
VALENTINE. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself;
Upon a homely object Love can wink. Exit THURIO

Enter PROTEUS

SILVIA. Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman.
VALENTINE. Welcome, dear Proteus! Mistress, I beseech you
Confirm his welcome with some special favour.
SILVIA. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,
If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from.
VALENTINE. Mistress, it is; sweet lady, entertain him
To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship.
SILVIA. Too low a mistress for so high a servant.
PROTEUS. Not so, sweet lady; but too mean a servant
To have a look of such a worthy mistress.
VALENTINE. Leave off discourse of disability;
Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant.
PROTEUS. My duty will I boast of, nothing else.
SILVIA. And duty never yet did want his meed.
Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress.
PROTEUS. I'll die on him that says so but yourself.
SILVIA. That you are welcome?
PROTEUS. That you are worthless.

Re-enter THURIO

THURIO. Madam, my lord your father would speak with you.
SILVIA. I wait upon his pleasure. Come, Sir Thurio,
Go with me. Once more, new servant, welcome.
I'll leave you to confer of home affairs;
When you have done we look to hear from you.
PROTEUS. We'll both attend upon your ladyship.
Exeunt SILVIA and THURIO
VALENTINE. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came?
PROTEUS. Your friends are well, and have them much commended.
VALENTINE. And how do yours?