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    Act 3. Scene I - Page 2

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    at your court.

    DUKE
    Nay then, no matter; stay with me awhile;
    I am to break with thee of some affairs
    That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret.
    'Tis not unknown to thee that I have sought
    To match my friend Sir Thurio to my daughter.

    VALENTINE
    I know it well, my Lord; and, sure, the match
    Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentleman
    Is full of virtue, bounty, worth and qualities
    Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter:
    Cannot your Grace win her to fancy him?

    DUKE
    No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward,
    Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty,
    Neither regarding that she is my child
    Nor fearing me as if I were her father;
    And, may I say to thee, this pride of hers,
    Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her;
    And, where I thought the remnant of mine age
    Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty,
    I now am full resolved to take a wife
    And turn her out to who will take her in:
    Then let her beauty be her wedding-dower;
    For me and my possessions she esteems not.

    VALENTINE
    What would your Grace have me to do in this?

    DUKE
    There is a lady in Verona here
    Whom I affect; but she is nice and coy
    And nought esteems my aged eloquence:
    Now therefore would I have thee to my tutor--
    For long agone I have forgot to court;
    Besides, the fashion of the time is changed--
    How and which way I may bestow myself
    To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.

    VALENTINE
    Win her with gifts, if she respect not words:
    Dumb jewels often in their silent kind
    More than quick words do move a woman's mind.

    DUKE
    But she did scorn a present that I sent her.

    VALENTINE
    A woman sometimes scorns what best contents her.
    Send her another; never give her o'er;
    For scorn at first makes after-love the more.
    If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
    But rather to beget more love in you:
    If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone;
    For why, the fools are mad, if left alone.
    Take no repulse, whatever she doth say;
    For 'get you gone,' she doth not mean 'away!'
    Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces;
    Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces.
    That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man,
    If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

    DUKE
    But she I mean is promised by her friends

    Unto a youthful gentleman of worth,
    And kept severely from resort of men,
    That no man hath access by day to her.

    VALENTINE
    Why, then, I would resort to her by night.

    DUKE
    Ay, but the doors be lock'd and keys kept safe,
    That no man hath recourse to her by night.

    VALENTINE
    What lets but one may enter at her window?

    DUKE
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