look to hear from you.

_Pro._ We'll both attend upon your ladyship.
[_Exeunt Silvia and Thurio._

_Val._ Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came?

_Pro._ Your friends are well, and have them much commended.

_Val._ And how do yours?

_Pro._ I left them all in health. 120

_Val._ How does your lady? and how thrives your love?

_Pro._ My tales of love were wont to weary you;
I know you joy not in a love-discourse.

_Val._ Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now:
I have done penance for contemning Love, 125
Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me
With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,
With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs;
For, in revenge of my contempt of love,
Love hath chased sleep from my enthralled eyes, 130
And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow.
O gentle Proteus, Love's a mighty lord,
And hath so humbled me; as I confess
There is no woe to his correction,
Nor to his service no such joy on earth. 135
Now no discourse, except it be of love;
Now can I break my fast, dine, sup and sleep,
Upon the very naked name of love.

_Pro._ Enough; I read your fortune in your eye.
Was this the idol that you worship so? 140

_Val._ Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint?

_Pro._ No; but she is an earthly paragon.

_Val._ Call her divine.

_Pro._ I will not flatter her.

_Val._ O, flatter me; for love delights in praises.

_Pro._ When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills; 145
And I must minister the like to you.

_Val._ Then speak the truth by her; if not divine,
Yet let her be a principality,
Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth.

_Pro._ Except my mistress.

_Val._ Sweet, except not any; 150
Except thou wilt except against my love.

_Pro._ Have I not reason to prefer mine own?

_Val._ And I will help thee to prefer her too:
She shall be dignified with this high honour,--
To bear my lady's train, lest the base earth 155
Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss,
And, of so great a favour growing proud,
Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower,
And make rough winter everlastingly.

_Pro._ Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this? 160

_Val._ Pardon me, Proteus: all I can is nothing
To her, whose worth