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Page:Shakespeare - First Folio Faithfully Reproduced, Methuen, 1910.djvu/56

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The two Gentlemen of Verona.

Goe base Intruder, ouer-weening Slaue,Bestow thy fawning smiles on equall mates,And thinke my patience, (more then thy desert)Is priuiledge for thy departure hence.Thanke me for this, more then for all the fauorsWhich (all too-much) I haue bestowed on thee.But if thou linger in my TerritoriesLonger then swiftest expeditionWill giue thee time to leaue our royall Court,By heauen, my wrath shall farre exceed the loueI euer bore my daughter, or thy selfe.Be gone, I will not heare thy vaine excuse,But as thou lou'st thy life, make speed from hence.
Val. And why not death, rather then liuing torment?To die, is to be banisht from my selfe,And Siluia is my selfe: banish'd from herIs selfe from selfe. A deadly banishment:What light, is light, if Siluia be not seene?What ioy is ioy, if Siluia be not by?Vnlesse it be to thinke that she is byAnd feed vpon the shadow of perfection.Except I be by Siluia in the night,There is no musicke in the Nightingale.Vnlesse I looke on Siluia in the day,There is no day for me to looke vpon.Shee is my essence, and I leaue to be;If I be not by her faire influenceFoster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept aliue.I flie not death, to flie his deadly doome,Tarry I heere, I but attend on death,But flie I hence, I flie away from life.
Pro. Run (boy) run, run, and seeke him out
Lau. So-hough, Soa hough —
Pro. What seest thou?
Lau. Him we goe to finde,There's not a haire on's head, but 'tis a Valentine.
Pro. Valentine?
Val. No.
Pro. Who then? his Spirit?
Val. Neither,
Pro. What then?
Val. Nothing.
Lau. Can nothing speake? Master, shall I strike?
Pro. Who wouldst thou strike?
Lau. Nothing.
Pro. Villaine, forbeare.
Lau. Why Sir, Ile strike nothing: I pray you.
Pro. Sirha, I say forbeare: friend Valentine, a word.
Val. My eares are stopt, & cannot hear good newes,So much of bad already hath possest them.
Pro. Then in dumbe silence will I bury mine,For they are harsh, vn-tuneable, and bad.
Val. Is Siluia dead?
Pro. No, Valentine.
Val. No Valentine indeed, for sacred Siluia,Hath she forsworne me?
Pro. No, Valentine.
Val. No Valentine, if Siluia haue forsworne me.What is your newes?
Lau. Sir, there is a proclamation, ў you are vanished.
Pro. That thou art banish'd: oh that's the newes,From hence, from Siluia, and from me thy friend.
Val. Oh, I haue fed vpon this woe already,And now excesse of it will make me surfet.Doth Siluia know that I am banish'd?
Pro. I, I: and she hath offered to the doome(Which vn-reuerst stands in effectuall force)A Sea of melting pearle, which some call teares;Those at her fathers churlish feete she tenderd,With them vpon her knees, her humble selfe,Wringing her hands, whose whitenes so became them,As if but now they waxed pale for woe:But neither bended knees, pure hands held vp,Sad sighes, deepe grones, nor siluer-shedding tearesCould penetrate her vncompassionate Sire;But Valentine, if he be sane, must die.Besides, her intercession chaf'd him so,When she for thy repeale was suppliant,That to close prison he commanded her,With many bitter threats of biding there.
Val. No more: vnles the next word that thou speak'stHaue some malignant power vpon my life:If so: I pray thee breath it in mine eare,As ending Antheme of my endlesse dolor
Pro. Cease to lament for that thou canst not helpe,And study helpe for that which thou lament'st,Time is the Nurse, and breeder of all good;Here, if thou stay, thou canst not see thy loue:Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life:Hope is a louers staffe, walke hence with thatAnd manage it, against despairing thoughts:Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence,Which, being writ to me, shall be deliuer'dEuen in the milke-white bosome of thy Loue.The time now serues not to expostulate,Come, Ile conuey thee through the City-gate.And ere I part with thee, confer at largeOf all that may concerne thy Loue-affaires:As thou lou'st Siluia (though not for thy selfe)Regard thy danger, and along with me.
Val. I pray thee Launce, and if thou seest my BoyBid him make haste, and meet me at the North-gate.
Pro. Goe sirha, finde him out: Come Valentine.
Val. Oh my deere Siluia; haplesse Valentine.
Launce. I am but a foole, looke you, and yet I hauethe wit to thinke my Master is a kinde of a knaue: butthat's all one, if he be but one knaue: He liues not nowthat knowes me to be in loue, yet I am in loue, but aTeeme of horse shall not plucke that from me: nor who'tis I loue: and yet 'tis a woman; but what woman, Iwill not tell my selfe: and yet 'tis a Milke-maid: yet 'tisnot a maid: for shee hath had Gossips: yet 'tis a maid,for she is her Masters maid, and serues for wages. Sheehath more qualities then a Water-Spaniell, which ismuch in a bare Christian: Heere is the Cate-log of herCondition. Inprimis. Shee can fetch and carry: whya horse can doe no more; nay, a horse cannot fetch, butonely carry, therefore is shee better then a Iade. Item.She can milke, looke you, a sweet vertue in a maid withcleane hands.
Speed. How now Signior Launce? what newes withyour Mastership?
La. With my Mastership? why, it is at Sea:
Sp. Well, your old vice still: mistake the word: whatnewes then in your paper?
La. The black'st newes that euer thou heard'st
Sp. Why man? how blacke?
La. Why, as blacke as Inke
Sp. Let me read them?
La. Fie on thee Iolt-head, thou canst not read.
Sp. Thou lyest: I can.
La. I will try thee: tell me this: who begot thee?

Sp. Marry,