Two Gentlemen of Verona | Page 8

hard-favoured, sir?
VALENTINE. Not so fair, boy, as well-favoured.
SPEED. Sir, I know that well enough.
VALENTINE. What dost thou know?

SPEED. That she is not so fair as, of you, well-favoured.
VALENTINE. I mean that her beauty is exquisite, but her favour
infinite.
SPEED. That's because the one is painted, and the other out of all
count.
VALENTINE. How painted? and how out of count?
SPEED. Marry, sir, so painted to make her fair, that no man counts of
her beauty.
VALENTINE. How esteem'st thou me? I account of her beauty.
SPEED. You never saw her since she was deformed.
VALENTINE. How long hath she been deformed?
SPEED. Ever since you loved her.
VALENTINE. I have loved her ever since I saw her, and still I see her
beautiful.
SPEED. If you love her, you cannot see her.
VALENTINE. Why?
SPEED. Because Love is blind. O! that you had mine eyes; or your
own eyes had the lights they were wont to have when you chid at Sir
Proteus for going ungartered!
VALENTINE. What should I see then?
SPEED. Your own present folly and her passing deformity; for he,
being in love, could not see to garter his hose; and you, being in love,
cannot see to put on your hose.
VALENTINE. Belike, boy, then you are in love; for last morning you
could not see to wipe my shoes.
SPEED. True, sir; I was in love with my bed. I thank you, you swinged
me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you for yours.
VALENTINE. In conclusion, I stand affected to her.
SPEED. I would you were set, so your affection would cease.
VALENTINE. Last night she enjoined me to write some lines to one
she loves.
SPEED. And have you?
VALENTINE. I have.
SPEED. Are they not lamely writ?
VALENTINE. No, boy, but as well as I can do them. Peace! here she
comes.
[Enter SILVIA.]

SPEED. [Aside] O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet! Now will he
interpret to her.
VALENTINE. Madam and mistress, a thousand good morrows.
SPEED. [Aside] O, give ye good even: here's a million of manners.
SILVIA. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand.
SPEED. [Aside] He should give her interest, and she gives it him.
VALENTINE. As you enjoin'd me, I have writ your letter Unto the
secret nameless friend of yours; Which I was much unwilling to
proceed in, But for my duty to your ladyship.
[Gives a letter.]
SILVIA. I thank you, gentle servant. 'Tis very clerkly done.
VALENTINE. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off; For, being
ignorant to whom it goes, I writ at random, very doubtfully.
SILVIA. Perchance you think too much 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.
[Gives hack the letter.]
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 woos 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