Val. And why not death, rather then liuing torment? To die, is to be banisht from my selfe, And Siluia is my selfe: banish'd from her Is selfe from selfe. A deadly banishment: What light, is light, if Siluia be not seene? What ioy is ioy, if Siluia be not by? Vnlesse it be to thinke that she is by And feed vpon the shadow of perfection. Except I be by Siluia in the night, There is no musicke in the Nightingale. Vnlesse I looke on Siluia in the day, There is no day for me to looke vpon. Shee is my essence, and I leaue to be; If I be not by her faire influence Foster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept aliue. I flie not death, to flie his deadly doome, Tarry I heere, I but attend on death, But flie I hence, I flie away from life
Pro. Run (boy) run, run, and seeke him out
Lau. So-hough, Soa hough- Pro. What seest thou? Lau. Him we goe to finde, There's not a haire on's head, but 'tis a Valentine
Pro. Valentine? Val. No
Pro. Who then? his Spirit? Val. Neither, Pro. What then? Val. Nothing
Lau. Can nothing speake? Master, shall I strike? Pro. Who wouldst thou strike? Lau. Nothing
Pro. Villaine, forbeare
Lau. Why Sir, Ile strike nothing: I pray you
Pro. Sirha, I say forbeare: friend Valentine, a word
Val. My eares are stopt, & cannot hear good newes, So much of bad already hath possest them
Pro. Then in dumbe silence will I bury mine, For they are harsh, vn-tuneable, and bad
Val. Is Siluia dead? Pro. No, Valentine
Val. No Valentine indeed, for sacred Siluia, Hath she forsworne me? Pro. No, Valentine
Val. No Valentine, if Siluia haue forsworne me. What is your newes? Lau. Sir, there is a proclamation, y you are vanished
Pro. That thou art banish'd: oh that's the newes, From hence, from Siluia, and from me thy friend
Val. Oh, I haue fed vpon this woe already, And now excesse of it will make me surfet. Doth Siluia know that I am banish'd? Pro. I, I: and she hath offered to the doome (Which vn-reuerst stands in effectuall force) A Sea of melting pearle, which some call teares; Those at her fathers churlish feete she tenderd, With them vpon her knees, her humble selfe, Wringing her hands, whose whitenes so became them, As if but now they waxed pale for woe: But neither bended knees, pure hands held vp, Sad sighes, deepe grones, nor siluer-shedding teares Could penetrate her vncompassionate Sire; But Valentine, if he be tane, must die. Besides, her intercession chaf'd him so, When she for thy repeale was suppliant, That to close prison he commanded her, With many bitter threats of biding there