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Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine, my friend,

This night intends to steal away your daughter;

Myself am one made privy to the plot.

I know you have determin’d to bestow her

On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates,

And should she thus be stol’n away from you,

It would be much vexation to your age.

Thus, for my duty’s sake, I rather chose

To cross my friend in his intended drift,

Than, by concealing it, heap on your head

A pack of sorrows which would press you down,

Being unprevented, to your timeless grave.

Duke.

Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care,

Which to requite, command me while I live.

This love of theirs myself have often seen,

Haply when they have judg’d me fast asleep,

And oftentimes have purpos’d to forbid

Sir Valentine her company and my court;

But fearing lest my jealous aim might err,

And so, unworthily, disgrace the man

(A rashness that I ever yet have shunn’d),

I gave him gentle looks, thereby to find

That which thyself hast now disclos’d to me.

And that thou mayst perceive my fear of this,