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Jul. And why not you? Luc. I cannot reach so high. Jul. Let's see your song:-How now, minion? Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out: And yet, methinks, I do not like this tune. Jul. You do not?
Luc. No, madam; it is too sharp.
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant:1
[Tears the letter,
Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie:
To be so anger'd with another letter.
Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same!
I throw thy name against the bruising stones,
And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
(1) A term in music.
(2) The tenor in music. (4) Bustle, stir.
Till I have found each letter in the letter,
Luc. Madam, dinner's ready, and your father stays.
Jul. Well, let us go.
Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here?
Jul. If you respect them, best to take them up. Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down: Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold. Jul. I see, you have a month's mind to them. Luc. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you
I see things too, although you judge I wink.
SCENE III.-The same. A room in Antonio's house. Enter Antonio and Panthino.
Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad2 talk was that, Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pan. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. Ant. Why, what of him?
He wonder'd, that your lordship Would suffer him to spend his youth at home; While other men, of slender reputation,3
(1) Since. (2) Serious. (3) Little consequence.
Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:
Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to
Whereon this month I have been hammering.
Ant. I know it well.
Pant. Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither:
There shall he practise tilts and tournaments,
Ant. I like thy counsel; well hast thou advis'd:
I will despatch him to the emperor's court. Pant. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso,
With other gentlemen of good esteem,
And to commend their service to his will.
Pro. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life!
Ant. How now? what letter are you reading there?
Pro. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or
Of commendation sent from Valentine,
Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news. Pro. There is no news, my lord; but that he writes
How happily he lives, how well belov'd,
Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish? Pro. As one relying on your lordship's will, And not depending on his friendly wish.
Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish: Muse2 not that I thus suddenly proceed; For what I will, I will, and there an end.
I am resolv'd, that thou shalt spend some time With Valentinus in the emperor's court; What maintenance he from his friends receives, Like exhibition3 thou shalt have from me. To-morrow be in readiness to go: Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.
Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided;
(1) Break the matter to him. Allowance.
Please you, deliberate a day or two.
Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent after thee:
No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.-
[Exeunt Ant. and Pant. Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire, for fear of burning;
And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd:
The uncertain glory of an April day;
Pant. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you; He is in haste, therefore, I pray you, go.
Pro. Why, this it is! my heart accords thereto; And yet a thousand times it answers, no.
An apartment in the Duke's palace. Enter Valentine and Speed.
Speed. Sir, your glove.
Val. Not mine; my gloves are on.
Speed. Why then this may be yours, for this is but one.
Val. Ha! let me see: ay, give it me, it's mine :Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine! Ah Silvia