LANCE. What a block art thou that thou canst not! My staff understands me. SPEED. What thou sayst? LANCE. Ay, and what I do too. Look thee, I’ll but lean, and my staff understands me. SPEED. It stands under thee indeed. LANCE. Why, stand-under and under-stand is all one. SPEED. But tell me true, will’t be a match? LANCE. Ask my dog. If he say “Ay”, it will; if he say “No”, it will; if he shake his tail and say nothing, it will. SPEED. The conclusion is, then, that it will. LANCE. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me but by a parable. SPEED. ’Tis well that I get it so. But, Lance, how sayst thou that my master is become a notable lover? LANCE. I never knew him otherwise. SPEED. Than how? LANCE. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be. SPEED. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistak’st me. LANCE. Why, fool, I meant not thee, I meant thy master. SPEED. I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover. LANCE. Why, I tell thee, I care not though he burn himself in love. If thou wilt, go with me to the alehouse; if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian. SPEED. Why? LANCE. Because thou hast not so much charity in thee as to go to the ale with a Christian. Wilt thou go? SPEED. At thy service. [_Exeunt._] SCENE VI. The same. The Duke’s palace Enter Proteus alone. PROTEUS. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn; To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn; To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn. And e’en that power which gave me first my oath Provokes me to this threefold perjury. Love bade me swear, and Love bids me forswear. O sweet-suggesting Love, if thou hast sinned, Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it. At first I did adore a twinkling star, But now I worship a celestial sun. Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken, And he wants wit that wants resolved will To learn his wit t’ exchange the bad for better. Fie, fie, unreverend tongue, to call her bad Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferred With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths. I cannot leave to love, and yet I do; But there I leave to love where I should love. Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose; If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; If I lose them, thus find I by their loss, For Valentine, myself; for Julia, Silvia. I to myself am dearer than a friend, For love is still most precious in itself, And Silvia—witness heaven that made her fair— Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope. I will forget that Julia is alive, Remembering that my love to her is dead; And Valentine I’ll hold an enemy, Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend. I cannot now prove constant to myself Without some treachery used to Valentine. This night he meaneth with a corded ladder To climb celestial Silvia’s chamber window, Myself in counsel, his competitor. Now presently I’ll give her father notice Of their disguising and pretended flight, Who, all enraged, will banish Valentine, For Thurio he intends shall wed his daughter.