Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd. Luc. A round hose, madam, now 's not worth a pin, Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on. Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly. But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me, For undertaking so unstaid a journey? I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd. Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and go not. Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go. Warrant me welcome to my Proteus. Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men. Jul. Base men, that use them to so base effect! But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth: His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles; His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate; His tears, pure messengers sent from his heart; His heart as far from fraud as heaven from earth. Luc. Pray Heaven he prove so, when you come to him! Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that wrong, To bear a hard opinion of his truth: Only deserve my love, by loving him; And presently go with me to my chamber, To take a note of what I stand in need of, To furnish me upon my longing journey. All that is mine I leave at thy dispose, My goods, my lands, my reputation; Only, in lieu thereof, despatch me hence: Come, answer not, but to it presently; I am impatient of my tarriance. a Infinite-infinity. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I.-Milan. An Ante-room in the Duke's Palace. Enter DUKE, THURIO, and PROTEUS. Duke. Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile; We have some secrets to confer about. [Exit THURIO. Now, tell me, Proteus, what 's your will with me? Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would discover, The law of friendship bids me to conceal : But, when I call to mind your gracious favours My duty pricks me on to utter that Which else no worldly good should draw from me. I know you have determin'd to bestow her Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care; But, fearing lest my jealous aim a might err, Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean How he her chamber-window will ascend, And with a corded ladder fetch her down; For which the youthful lover now is gone, And this way comes he with it presently; Where, if it please you, you may intercept him. But, good my lord, do it so cunningly, That my discovery be not aimed at; For love of you, not hate unto my friend, Hath made me publisher of this pretence.c Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never know That I had any light from thee of this. Pro. Adieu, my lord; sir Valentine is coming. [Exit. Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? Duke. Be they of much import? Val. The tenor of them doth but signify My health, and happy being at your court. Duke. Nay, then no matter; stay with me a while; I am to break with thee of some affairs, That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret. a Aim-purpose, intention. b Suggested-tempted. • Pretence-design. 'T is not unknown to thee, that I have sought Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward, And turn her out to who will take her in : Val. What would your grace have me to do in this? Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words; Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, More than quick words, do move a woman's mind. Duke. But she did scorn a present that I sent her. Val. A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her: Send her another; never give her o'er; For scorn at first makes after-love the more. ■ Where-whereas. If she do frown, 't is not in hate of you, Duke. But, she I mean is promis'd by her friends And kept severely from resort of men, That no man hath access by day to her. 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, Would serve to scale another Hero's tower, So bold Leander would adventure it. Duke. Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood, Advise me where I may have such a ladder. Val. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell me that. Duke. This very night; for love is like a child, That longs for everything 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 bear it Under a cloak, that is of any length. Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn? Lets-hinders. |