But, fearing left my jealous aim might err,
And fo unworthily difgrace the man,
(A rashness that I ever yet have fhunn'd ;)
I gave him gentle looks; thereby to find
That which thy felf haft now disclos'd to me.
And that thou may'ft perceive my fear of this,
Knowing that tender youth is foon fuggested,
I nightly lodge her in an upper tower,
The key whereof my felf have ever kept;
And thence the cannot be convey'd away.

Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean
How he her chamber-window will afcend,
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 fo cunningly,
That my difcov'ry be not aimed at;
For love of you, not hate unto my friend,
Hath made me publifher of this pretence.

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 Pro.

Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast?
Val. Please it your Grace, there is a meffenger
That stays to bear my letters to my friends,
And I am going to deliver them.

Duke. Be they of much import?

Val. The tenour of them doth but fignifie My health, and happy being at your court. Duke. Nay then, no matter; ftay with me a while; I am to break with thee of fome affairs,

That

That touch me near; wherein thou must be fecret.
'Tis not unknown to thee, that I have fought
To match my friend Sir Thurio to my daughter,

Val. I know it well, my lord; and, fure, the match
Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentleman
Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities
Beseeming fuch a wife as your fair daughter.
Cannot your Grace win her to fancy him?
Duke. No, truft me; fhe is peevish, fullen, froward,
Proud, difobedient, ftubborn, lacking duty;
Neither regarding that fhe is my child,
Nor fearing me as if I were her father:
And may I fay to thee, this pride of hers,
Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her;
And, where I thought the remnant of mine age
Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty,
I now am full refolv'd to take a wife,

And turn her out to who will take her in :
Then let her beauty be her wedding-dower:
For me, and my poffeffions, fhe esteems not,
Val. What would your Grace have me to do in this?
Duke. There is a lady,' Sir, in Milan here,
Whom I affect; but fhe is nice and coy,
And nought efteems my aged eloquence:
Now therefore would I have thee to my tutor;
(For long agone I have forgot to court;
Befides, the fashion of the time is chang'd,)
How, and which way, I may bestow my self,
To be regarded in her fun-bright eye.

Val. Win her with gifts, if the respects not words

I Sir, in Milan here,] It ought to be thus, instead of -in Verona here. for the Scene apparently is in Milan, as is clear from feveral paffages in the first Act, and in the beginning of the first Scene of the fourth A&t. A like mistake has crept into the eighth Scene of Act II. where Speed bids his fellow-ferMr. Pope. vant Launce, welcome to Padua.

Dumb jewels often in their filent kind,

More than quick words, do move a woman's mind. Duke. But fhe did fcorn a prefent, that I fent her. Val. A woman fometimes fcorns what best contents

her;

Send her another; never give her o'er;

For fcorn at firft makes after-love the more.
If fhe do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
But rather to beget more love in you:
If the do chide, 'tis not to have you gone;
For why, the fools are mad if left alone.
Take no repulfe, whatever fhe doth say;
For, get you gone, fhe doth not mean away:
Flatter, and praife, commend, extol their graces;
Tho' ne'er fo black, fay, they have angels' faces.
That man that hath a tongue, I fay, is no man,
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

Duke. But fhe, I mean, is promis'd by her friends Unto a youthful gentleman of worth,

And kept severely from refort of men,

That no man hath accefs by day to her.

Val. Why then I would refort to her by night. Duke. Ay, but the doors be lockt, and keys kept fafe, 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 fo shelving, that one cannot climb it Without apparent hazard of his life.

Val. Why then a ladder quaintly made of cords, To caft up, with a pair of anchoring hooks, Would ferve to fcale 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 fuch 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 ev'ry thing that he can come by.

Val. By feven a clock I'll get you fuch 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 ferve the turn? Val. Ay, my good lord.

Duke. Then let me fee thy cloak;

I'll get me one of fuch another length.

Val. Why, any cloak will ferve the turn, my lord. . Duke. How fhall I fashion me to wear a cloak? I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.

What letter is this fame? what's here? To Silvia?
And here an engine fit for my proceeding?

I'll be fo bold to break the feal for once. [Duke reads.
My thoughts do barbour with my Silvia nightly,
And flaves they are to me, that fend them flying:
Ob, could their mafter come and go as lightly,

Himfelf would lodge, where fenfelefs they are lying:
My herald thoughts in thy pure bofom reft them,
While I, their King, that thither them importune,
Do curfe the grace, that with fuch grace bath bleft them,
Because my felf do want my fervants' fortune;

I curfe my felf, for they are fent by me,

That they should harbour, where their lord would be. What's here? Silvia, this night will I enfranchife thee: 'Tis fo, and here's the ladder for the purpose.

2

Why, Phaeton, for thou art Merops' fon,

Wilt thou afpire to guide the heavenly car,

And with thy daring folly burn the world?
Wilt thou reach ftars, because they fhine on thee?
Go, base intruder! over-weening flave!
Bestow thy fawning fmiles on equal mates;
And think, my patience, more than thy defert,

2 Why, Phaeton, for thou art MEROPS' SON,

Wilt thou afpire to guide the heav'nly car.] Merops' son, i. e. a baftard, bafe-born.

Is privilege for thy departure hence :

Thank me for this, more than for all the favours,
Which, all too much, I have beftow'd on thee.
But if thou linger in my territories,
Longer than fwifteft expedition

Will give thee time to leave our royal court,
By heav'n, my wrath fhall far exceed the love,
I ever bore my daughter or thy felf:

Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excufe,

But as thou lov'it thy life, make speed from hence.

SCENE

III.

[Exit.

Val. And why not death, rather than living torment?
To die, is to be banish'd from my self:
And Silvia is my felf; banish'd from her,
Is felf from self: a deadly banishment!
What light is light, if Silvia be not feen?
• What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?
Unless it be to think, that fhe is by;
• And feed upon the fhadow of perfection.
Except I be by Silvia in the night,
There is no mufick in the nightingale ;
• Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
There is no day for me to look upon:
She is my effence, and I leave to be,
If I be not by her fair influence

Fofter'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive.
I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom;
Tarry I here, I but attend on death:
But fly I hence, I fly away from life.

Enter Protheus and Launce.

Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and feek him out.

Laun. So-ho! fo-ho!

Pro. What feeft thou?

Laun. Him we go to find:

There's