The Two Gentlemen of Verona (6 page)

SPEED
    O, excellent
motion!
⁸⁵
O, exceeding

puppet! Now will he
interpret to her.
⁸⁶

VALENTINE
    Madam and mistress, a thousand good-morrows.

SPEED
    O,
’give ye good ev’n
: here’s a
million of
⁸⁸
manners.

SILVIA
    Sir Valentine and
servant
⁸⁹
, to you two thousand.

SPEED
    
He should give her interest, and she gives it him.
⁹⁰

VALENTINE
    As you enjoined me, I have writ your letter

Unto the secret, nameless
friend
⁹²
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
⁹⁵
done.

VALENTINE
    Now trust me, madam, it
came hardly off:
⁹⁶

For being ignorant to whom it goes

I writ at random, very
doubtfully.
⁹⁸

SILVIA
    
Perchance you think too much of so much pains?
⁹⁹

VALENTINE
    No, madam,
so it stead you
¹⁰⁰
, I will write—

Please you command — a thousand times as much.

And yet—

SILVIA
    A
pretty period
! Well, I guess
the sequel,
¹⁰³

And yet I will not name it: and yet I care not.

And yet take
this
¹⁰⁵
again. And yet I thank you,

Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more.

SPEED
    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
¹⁰⁹
writ,

But, since unwillingly, take them
again.
¹¹⁰

Nay, take them.

VALENTINE
    Madam, they are for you.

SILVIA
    Ay, ay: you writ them, sir, at my request,

But I will
none of
¹¹⁴
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
¹¹⁸
: if not, why, so.

VALENTINE
    If it please me, madam? What then?

SILVIA
    Why, if it please you, take it
for your labour;
¹²⁰

And so, good morrow, servant.

SPEED
    O, jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible

As a nose on a man’s face, or a weathercock on a steeple!

My master
sues to
¹²⁴
her, and she hath taught her suitor,

He being her pupil, to become her tutor.

O, excellent
device!
¹²⁶
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
¹²⁹
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.
¹³⁴

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?
¹⁴²

VALENTINE
    She gave me
none
¹⁴³
, 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 delivered, and there an
end.
¹⁴⁶

VALENTINE
    I would it were no worse.

SPEED
    I’ll
warrant
¹⁴⁸
you, ’tis as well:

For often have you writ to her, and she in modesty,

Or else for
want
¹⁵⁰
of idle time, could not again reply,

Or fearing else some messenger that might her mind
discover,
¹⁵¹

Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover.

All this I speak
in print
¹⁵³
, for in print I found it.

Why muse you, sir? ’Tis dinner-time.

VALENTINE
    
I have dined.
¹⁵⁵

SPEED
    Ay, but hearken, sir: though the
chameleon Love
¹⁵⁶

can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my

victuals
, and would
fain
¹⁵⁸
have meat. O, be not like your

mistress: be
moved
¹⁵⁹
, be moved.

PROTEUS
    Have patience, gentle Julia.

JULIA
    I must, where
is
²
no remedy.

PROTEUS
    When possibly I can, I will return.

JULIA
    If you
turn
⁴
not, you will return the sooner.

Keep this
remembrance
⁵
for thy Julia’s sake.

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:
⁸

And when that hour
o’erslips
⁹
me in the day,

Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake,

The next ensuing hour some foul
mischance
¹¹

Torment me for my love’s forgetfulness.

My father
stays
¹³
my coming: answer not,

The tide is now; nay, not thy tide of tears,

That tide will
stay
¹⁵
me longer than I should.

Julia, farewell. What, gone without a word?

Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak,

For truth hath better deeds than words to
grace
¹⁸
it.

PANTINO
    Sir Proteus, you are stayed for.

PROTEUS
    Go: I come, I come.

Alas, this parting strikes poor lovers dumb.

LANCE
    Nay, ’twill be this hour
ere
¹
I have done weeping: all

the
kind
²
of the Lances have this very fault. I have received

my
proportion
, like the
prodigious
³
son, and am going with

Sir Proteus to the
Imperial’s
court. I think
Crab
⁴
, 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
⁸
shed one tear: he is a stone,

a very pebble stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog.

A
Jew
¹⁰
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
¹²
is my

father. No, this
left
¹³
shoe is my father. No, no, this 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
¹⁵
in it is my

mother, and this my father.
A vengeance on’t
¹⁶
, there ’tis.

Now, sir, this
staff
¹⁷
is my sister, for, look you, she is as white as

a lily and as
small
as a
wand.
¹⁸
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
²¹
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
²⁴
woman! Well, I kiss her. Why, there ’tis; here’s my

mother’s breath
up and down.
²⁵
Now come I to my sister;

mark
²⁶
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
²⁷
with

my tears.

PANTINO
    Lance, away, away: aboard! Thy master is shipped,

and thou art to
post
³⁰
after with oars. What’s the matter? Why

weep’st thou, man? Away, ass, you’ll
lose
³¹
the tide, if you

tarry any longer.

LANCE
    It is no matter if the
tied
³³
were lost, for it is the

unkindest tied that ever any man tied.

PANTINO
    What’s the unkindest tide?

LANCE
    Why, he that’s tied here, Crab, my dog.

PANTINO
    Tut, man, I mean thou’lt lose the
flood
³⁷
, 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?

LANCE
    For fear thou shouldst
lose
⁴²
thy tongue.

PANTINO
    Where should I lose my tongue?

LANCE
    In thy
tale.
⁴⁴

PANTINO
    In thy
tail!
⁴⁵

LANCE
    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.

PANTINO
    Come: come away, man. I was sent to
call
⁵⁰
thee.

LANCE
    Sir, call me what thou dar’st.

PANTINO
    Wilt thou go?

LANCE
    Well, I will go.

SILVIA
    Servant!

VALENTINE
    Mistress?

SPEED
    Master, Sir Turio frowns on you.

VALENTINE
    Ay, boy, it’s for love.

SPEED
    Not of you.

VALENTINE
    Of my mistress, then.

SPEED
    
’Twere good you knocked
⁷
him.