The Two Gentlemen of Verona, William Shakespeare [the speed reading book TXT] 📗

of so much pains? Valentine

No, madam; so it stead you, I will write,
Please you command, a thousand times as much;
And yet⁠—

Silvia

A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel;
And yet I will not name it; and yet I care not;
And yet take this again; and yet I thank you,
Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more.

Speed Aside. 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 writ;
But since unwillingly, take them again.
Nay, take them.

Valentine Madam, they are for you. Silvia

Ay, ay: you writ them, sir, at my request;
But I will none of 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; if not, why, so.

Valentine If it please me, madam, what then? Silvia

Why, if it please you, take it for your labour:
And so, good morrow, servant. Exit.

Speed

O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible,
As a nose on a man’s face, or a weathercock on a steeple!
My master sues to her, and she hath taught her suitor,
He being her pupil, to become her tutor.
O excellent device! 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 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 wooes you by a figure. 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? Valentine She gave me none, 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. Valentine I would it were no worse. Speed

I’ll warrant you, ’tis as well:
For often have you writ to her, and she, in modesty,
Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply;
Or fearing else some messenger that might her mind discover,
Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover.
All this I speak in print, for in print I found it.
Why muse you, sir? ’tis dinner-time.

Valentine I have dined. Speed Ay, but hearken, sir; though the chameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat. O, be not like your mistress; be moved, be moved. Exeunt. Scene II

Verona. Julia’s house.

Enter Proteus and Julia. Proteus Have patience, gentle Julia. Julia I must, where is no remedy. Proteus When possibly I can, I will return. Julia

If you turn not, you will return the sooner.
Keep this remembrance for thy Julia’s sake. Giving a ring.

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;
And when that hour o’erslips me in the day
Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake,
The next ensuing hour some foul mischance
Torment me for my love’s forgetfulness!
My father stays my coming; answer not;
The tide is now: nay, not thy tide of tears;
That tide will stay me longer than I should.
Julia, farewell! Exit Julia. What, gone without a word?
Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak;
For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.

Enter Panthino. Panthino Sir Proteus, you are stay’d for. Proteus

Go; I come, I come.
Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb. Exeunt.

Scene III

The same. A street.

Enter Launce, leading a dog. Launce Nay, ’twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault. I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial’s court. I think Crab 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 shed one tear: he is a stone, a very pebble stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew 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 is my father: no, this left 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 in it, is my mother, and this my father; a vengeance on’t! there ’tis: now, sit, this staff is my sister, for, look you, she is as white as a lily and as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid: I am the dog: no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog⁠—Oh! the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so. Now come I to my father; Father, your 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 woman! Well, I kiss her; why, there ’tis; here’s my mother’s breath up and down. Now come I to my sister; mark 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 with my tears. Enter Panthino. Panthino Launce, away, away, aboard! thy master is shipped and