William Shakespeare - Ultimate Collection: Complete Plays & Poetry in One Volume. William ShakespeareЧитать онлайн книгу.

       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.]

       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.

       SILVIA.

       Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman.

       [Enter PROTEUS]

       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.

       [Enter a servant.]

       SERVANT.

       Madam, my lord your father would speak with you.

       SILVIA.

       I wait upon his pleasure. [Exit Servant.] 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, THURIO, and SPEED.]

       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?

       PROTEUS.

       I left them all in health.

       VALENTINE.

       How does your lady, and how thrives your love?

       PROTEUS.

       My tales of love were wont to weary you;

       I know you joy not in a love-discourse.

       VALENTINE.

       Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter’d now;

       I have done penance for contemning Love;

       Whose high imperious thoughts have punish’d me

       With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,

       With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs;

       For, in revenge of my contempt of love,

       Love hath chas’d sleep from my enthralled eyes

       And made them watchers of mine own heart’s sorrow.

       O, gentle Proteus! Love’s a mighty lord,

       And hath so humbled me as I confess,

       There is no woe to his correction,

       Nor to his service no such joy on earth.

       Now no discourse, except it be of love;

       Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep,

       Upon the very naked name of love.

       PROTEUS.

       Enough; I read your fortune in your eye.

       Was this the idol that you worship so?

       VALENTINE.

       Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint?

       PROTEUS.

       No; but she is an earthly paragon.

       VALENTINE.

       Call her divine.

       PROTEUS.

       I will not flatter her.

       VALENTINE.

       O! flatter me; for love delights in praises.

       PROTEUS.

       When I was sick you gave me bitter pills,

       And I must minister the like to you.

       VALENTINE.

       Then speak the truth by her; if not divine,

       Yet let her be a principality,

       Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth.

       PROTEUS.

       Except my mistress.

       VALENTINE.

       Sweet, except not any,

       Except thou wilt except against my love.

       PROTEUS.

       Have I not reason to prefer mine own?

       VALENTINE.

       And I will help thee to prefer her too:

       She shall be dignified with this high honour,—

       To bear my lady’s train, lest the base earth

       Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss,

       And, of so great a favour growing proud,

       Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower

       And make rough winter everlastingly.

       PROTEUS.

       Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this?

       VALENTINE.