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Duke.

Hath he not a son?

Val.

Ay, my good lord, a son that well deserves

The honor and regard of such a father.

Duke.

You know him well?

Val.

I knew him as myself: for from our infancy

We have convers’d and spent our hours together,

And though myself have been an idle truant,

Omitting the sweet benefit of time

To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection,

Yet hath Sir Proteus (for that’s his name)

Made use and fair advantage of his days;

His years but young, but his experience old;

His head unmellowed, but his judgment ripe;

And in a word (for far behind his worth

Comes all the praises that I now bestow),

He is complete in feature and in mind

With all good grace to grace a gentleman.

Duke.

Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this good,

He is as worthy for an empress’ love

As meet to be an emperor’s counsellor.

Well, sir—this gentleman is come to me

With commendation from great potentates,

And here he means to spend his time a while.

I think ’tis no unwelcome news to you.

Val.

Should I have wish’d a thing, it had been he.