O that our Fathers would applaud our loues
To seale our happinesse with their consents.
Oh heauenly Iulia
How now? What Letter are you reading there?
May’t please your Lordship,’tis a word or two
Of commendations sent from Valentine;
Deliuer’d by a friend, that came from him.
Lend me the Letter: Let me see what newes.
There is no newes (my Lord) but that he writes
How happily he liues, how well-belou’d,
And daily graced by the Emperor;
Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.
And how stand you affected to his wish?
As one relying on your Lordships will,
And not depending on his friendly wish.
My will is something sorted with his wish:
Muse not that I thus sodainly proceed;
For what I will, I will, and there an end:
I am resolu’d, that thou shalt spend some time
With Valentinus, in the Emperors Court:
What maintenance he from his friends receiues,
Like exhibition thou shalt haue from me,
To morrow be in readinesse, to goe,
Excuse it not: for I am peremptory
My Lord I cannot be so soone prouided,
Please you deliberate a day or two.
Look what thou want’st shalbe sent after thee:
No more of stay: to morrow thou must goe;
Come on Panthino; you shall be imployd,
To hasten on his Expedition.
Thus haue I shund the fire, for feare of burning,
And drench’d me in the sea, where I am drown’d.
I fear’d to shew my Father Iulias Letter,
Least he should take exceptions to my loue,
And with the vantage of mine owne excuse
Hath he excepted most against my loue.
Oh, how this spring of loue resembleth
The vncertaine glory of an Aprill day,
Which now shewes all the beauty of the Sun,
And by and by a clowd takes all away.
Sir Protheus, your Fathers call’s for you,
He is in hast, therefore I pray you go
Why this it is: my heart accords thereto,
And yet a thousand times it answer’s no.
Actus secundus: Scoena Prima.
Enter Valentine, Speed, Siluia.
Sir, your Gloue.
Not mine: my Gloues are on.
Why then this may be yours: for this is but one.
Ha? Let me see: I, giue it me, it’s mine:
Sweet Ornament, that deckes a thing diuine,
Ah Siluia, Siluia.
Madam Siluia: Madam Siluia.
How now Sirha?
Shee is not within hearing Sir.
Why sir, who bad you call her?
Your worship sir, or else I mistooke.
Well: you’ll still be too forward.
And yet I was last chidden for being too slow.
Goe to, sir, tell me: do you know Madam Siluia?
Shee that your worship loues?
Why, how know you that I am in loue?
Marry by these speciall markes: first, you haue
learn’d (like Sir Protheus) to wreath your Armes like a
Male-content: to rellish a Loue-song, like a Robin-redbreast:
to walke alone like one that had the pestilence:
to sigh, like a Schoole-boy that had lost his A.B.C. to
weep like a yong wench that had buried her Grandam:
to fast, like one that takes diet: to watch, like one that
feares robbing: to speake puling, like a beggar at Hallow-Masse:
You were wont, when you laughed, to crow
like a cocke; when you walk’d, to walke like one of the
Lions: when you fasted, it was presently after dinner:
when you look’d sadly, it was for want of money: And
now you are Metamorphis’d with a Mistris, that when I
looke on you, I can hardly thinke you my Master.
Are all these things perceiu’d in me?
They are all perceiu’d without ye.
Without me? they cannot.
Without you? nay, that’s certaine: for without
you were so simple, none else would: but you are
so without these follies, that these follies are within you,
and shine through you like the water in an Vrinall: that
not an eye that sees you, but is a Physician to comment
on your Malady
But tell me: do’st thou know my Lady Siluia?
Shee that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper?
Hast thou obseru’d that? euen she I meane
Why sir, I know her not
Do’st thou know her by my gazing on her, and
yet know’st her not?
Is she not hard-fauour’d, sir?
Not so faire (boy) as well fauour’d.
Sir, I know that well enough.
What dost thou know?
That shee is not so faire, as (of you) well-fauourd?
I meane that her beauty is exquisite,
But her fauour infinite.
That’s because the one is painted, and the other
out of all count.
How painted? and how out of count?
Marry sir, so painted to make her faire, that no
man counts of her beauty.
How esteem’st thou me? I account of her beauty.
You neuer saw her since she was deform’d.
How long hath she beene deform’d?
Euer since you lou’d her
I haue lou’d her euer since I saw her,
And still I see her beautifull.
If you loue her, you cannot see her.
Because Loue is blinde: O that you had mine
eyes, or your owne eyes had the lights they were wont
to haue, when you chidde at Sir Protheus, for going vngarter’d.
What should I see then?
Your owne present folly, and her passing deformitie:
for hee beeing in loue, could not see to garter
his hose; and you, beeing in loue, cannot see to put on
Belike (boy) then you are in loue, for last morning
You could not see to wipe my shooes
True sir: I was in loue with my bed, I thanke
you, you swing’d me for my loue, which makes mee the