READ STUDY GUIDE: Act I, scene i |
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Act I, Scene i:
Verona. An open place
Verona. An open place
| [Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS.] |
| VALENTINE: |
| Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus: |
| Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits. |
| Were't not affection chains thy tender days |
| To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love, |
| I rather would entreat thy company |
| To see the wonders of the world abroad, |
| Than, living dully sluggardiz'd at home, |
| Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness. |
| But since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein, |
| Even as I would, when I to love begin. |
| PROTEUS: |
| Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu! |
| Think on thy Proteus, when thou haply seest |
| Some rare noteworthy object in thy travel: |
| Wish me partaker in thy happiness |
| When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger, |
| If ever danger do environ thee, |
| Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers, |
| For I will be thy headsman, Valentine. |
| VALENTINE: |
| And on a love-book pray for my success? |
| PROTEUS: |
| Upon some book I love I'll pray for thee. |
| VALENTINE: |
| That's on some shallow story of deep love, |
| How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont. |
| PROTEUS: |
| That's a deep story of a deeper love; |
| For he was more than over shoes in love. |
| VALENTINE: |
| 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love, |
| And yet you never swum the Hellespont. |
| PROTEUS: |
| Over the boots? Nay, give me not the boots. |
| VALENTINE: |
| No, I will not, for it boots thee not. |
| PROTEUS: |
| What? |
| VALENTINE: |
| To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans; |
| Coy looks with heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth |
| With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights: |
| If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain; |
| If lost, why then a grievous labour won: |
| However, but a folly bought with wit, |
| Or else a wit by folly vanquished. |
| PROTEUS: |
| So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. |
| VALENTINE: |
| So, by your circumstance, I fear you'll prove. |
| PROTEUS: |
| 'Tis love you cavil at: I am not Love. |
| VALENTINE: |
| Love is your master, for he masters you; |
| And he that is so yoked by a fool, |
| Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise. |
| PROTEUS: |
| Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud |
| The eating canker dwells, so eating love |
| Inhabits in the finest wits of all. |
| VALENTINE: |
| And writers say, as the most forward bud |
| Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, |
| Even so by love the young and tender wit |
| Is turned to folly; blasting in the bud, |
| Losing his verdure even in the prime, |
| And all the fair effects of future hopes. |
| But wherefore waste I time to counsel the |
| That art a votary to fond desire? |
| Once more adieu! my father at the road |
| Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd. |
| PROTEUS: |
| And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. |
| VALENTINE: |
| Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave. |
| To Milan let me hear from thee by letters |
| Of thy success in love, and what news else |
| Betideth here in absence of thy friend; |
| And I likewise will visit thee with mine. |
| PROTEUS: |
| All happiness bechance to thee in Milan! |
| VALENTINE: |
| As much to you at home! and so farewell! |
| [Exit.] |
| PROTEUS: |
| He after honour hunts, I after love; |
| He leaves his friends to dignify them more: |
| I leave myself, my friends, and all for love. |
| Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphos'd me;— |
| Made me neglect my studies, lose my time, |
| War with good counsel, set the world at nought; |
| Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought. |
| [Enter SPEED.] |
| SPEED: |
| Sir Proteus, save you! Saw you my master? |
| PROTEUS: |
| But now he parted hence to embark for Milan. |
| SPEED: |
| Twenty to one then he is shipp'd already, |
| And I have play'd the sheep in losing him. |
| PROTEUS: |
| Indeed a sheep doth very often stray, |
| An if the shepherd be a while away. |
| SPEED: |
| You conclude that my master is a shepherd then, and |
| I a sheep? |
| PROTEUS: |
| I do. |
| SPEED: |
| Why then, my horns are his horns, whether I wake or sleep. |
| PROTEUS: |
| A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep. |
| SPEED: |
| This proves me still a sheep. |
| PROTEUS: |
| True; and thy master a shepherd. |
| SPEED: |
| Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance. |
| PROTEUS: |
| It shall go hard but I'll prove it by another. |
| SPEED: |
| The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the |
| shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks not me; |
| therefore, I am no sheep. |
| PROTEUS: |
| The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd; the shepherd for |
| food follows not the sheep: thou for wages followest thy master; |
| thy master for wages follows not thee. Therefore, thou art a |
| sheep. |
| SPEED: |
| Such another proof will make me cry 'baa.' |
| PROTEUS: |
| But, dost thou hear? gavest thou my letter to Julia? |
| SPEED: |
| Ay, sir; I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, a laced |
| mutton; and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a lost mutton, nothing |
| for my labour. |
| PROTEUS: |
| Here's too small a pasture for such store of muttons. |
| SPEED: |
| If the ground be overcharged, you were best stick her. |
| PROTEUS: |
| Nay, in that you are astray: 'twere best pound you. |
| SPEED: |
| Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your |
| letter. |
| PROTEUS: |
| You mistake; I mean the pound,—a pinfold. |
| SPEED: |
| From a pound to a pin? fold it over and over, |
| 'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover. |
| PROTEUS: |
| But what said she?[SPEED nods.]Did she nod? |
| [SPEED] Ay. |
| PROTEUS: |
| SPEED: |
| did nod; and I say, Ay. |
| PROTEUS: |
| And that set together is—noddy. |
| SPEED: |
| Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for |
| your pains. |
| PROTEUS: |
| No, no; you shall have it for bearing the letter. |
| SPEED: |
| Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you. |
| PROTEUS: |
| Why, sir, how do you bear with me? |
| SPEED: |
| Marry, sir, the letter, very orderly; having nothing but the |
| word 'noddy' for my pains. |
| PROTEUS: |
| Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit. |
| SPEED: |
| And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse. |
| PROTEUS: |
| Come, come; open the matter; in brief: what said she? |
| SPEED: |
| Open your purse, that the money and the matter may be both |
| at once delivered. |
| PROTEUS: |
| Well, sir, here is for your pains[giving him money]. What said |
| she? |
| SPEED: |
| Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her. |
| PROTEUS: |
| Why, couldst thou perceive so much from her? |
| SPEED: |
| Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no, not so |
| much as a ducat for delivering your letter; and being so hard to |
| me that brought your mind, I fear she'll prove as hard to you in |
| telling your mind. Give her no token but stones, for she's as |
| hard as steel. |
| PROTEUS: |
| What! said she nothing? |
| SPEED: |
| No, not so much as 'Take this for thy pains.' To testify |
| your bounty, I thank you, you have testerned me; in requital |
| whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself; and so, sir, |
| I'll commend you to my master. |
| PROTEUS: |
| Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wrack; |
| Which cannot perish, having thee aboard, |
| Being destin'd to a drier death on shore.— |
| [Exit SPEED.] |
| I must go send some better messenger. |
| I fear my Julia would not deign my lines, |
| Receiving them from such a worthless post. |
| [Exit.] |
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