against his very friend.
Duke.
Where your good word cannot advantage him,
Your slander never can endamage him;
Therefore the office is indifferent,
Being entreated to it by your friend.
Pro.
You have prevail’d, my lord; if I can do it
By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not long continue love to him.
But say this weed her love from Valentine,
It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio.
Thu.
Therefore, as you unwind her love from him,
Lest it should ravel and be good to none,
You must provide to bottom it on me;
Which must be done by praising me as much
As you in worth dispraise Sir Valentine.
Duke.
And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind,
Because we know (on Valentine’s report)
You are already Love’s firm votary,
And cannot soon revolt and change your mind.
Upon this warrant shall you have access
Where you with Silvia may confer at large—
For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy,
And (for your friend’s sake) will be glad of you—
Where you may temper her by your persuasion
To hate young Valentine and love my friend.
Pro.
As much as I can do, I will effect.
But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough;
You must lay lime to tangle her desires
By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes
Should be full-fraught with serviceable vows.
Duke.
Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred poesy.
Pro.
Say that upon the altar of her beauty
You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart;
Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears
Moist it again, and frame some feeling line
That may discover such integrity:
For Orpheus’ lute was strung with poets’ sinews,
Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,
Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans
Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.
After your dire-lamenting elegies,
Visit by night your lady’s chamber-window
With some sweet consort; to their instruments
Tune a deploring dump—the night’s dead silence
Will well become such sweet-complaining grievance.
This, or else nothing, will inherit her.
Duke.
This discipline shows thou hast been in love.
Thu.
And thy advice this night I’ll put in practice:
Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver,
Let us into the city presently
To sort some gentlemen well skill’d in music.
I have a sonnet that will serve the turn
To give the onset to thy good advice.
Duke.
About it, gentlemen!
Pro.
We’ll wait upon your Grace till after supper,
And afterward determine our proceedings.
Duke.
Even now about it! I will pardon you.
Exeunt.
¶
ACT IV
Scene I
Enter Valentine, Speed, and certain Outlaws.
1. Out.
Fellows, stand fast; I see a passenger.
2. Out.
If there be ten, shrink not, but down with ’em.
3. Out.
Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about ye.
If not, we’ll make you sit, and rifle you.
Speed.
Sir, we are undone; these are the villains
That all the travellers do fear so much.
Val.
My friends—
1. Out.
That’s not so, sir; we are your enemies.
2. Out.
Peace!
