Page 1948 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

To hate young Valentine and love my friend. [65]

PROT EUS

As much as I can do I will effect.
But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough;
You must lay lime to tangle her desires
By wailful sonnets, whose composèd rhymes
Should be full-fraught with serviceable vows. [70]

DUKE

Ay,
Much is the force of heaven-bred poesy.

PROT EUS

Say that upon the altar of her beauty
You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart;
Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears [75]
Moist it again, and frame some feeling line
That may discover such integrity;
For Orpheus’ lute was strung with poet’s sinews,
Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,
Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans [80]
Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.
After your dire-lamenting elegies,
Visit by night your lady’s chamber-window
With some sweet consort; to their instruments
Tune a deploring dump - the night’s dead silence [85]
Will well become such sweet complaining grievance.
This, or else nothing, will inherit her.

DUKE

This discipline shows thou hast been in love.

T HURIO

And thy advice this night I’ll put in practice;
Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver, [90]
Let us into the city presently
To sort some gentlemen well skilled in music.
I have a sonnet that will serve the turn
To give the onset to thy good advice.