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Therefore, as you unwind her love from him,

Lest it should ravel and be good to none,

You must provide to bottom it on me;

Which must be done by praising me as much

As you in worth dispraise Sir Valentine.

Duke.

And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind,

Because we know (on Valentine’s report)

You are already Love’s firm votary,

And cannot soon revolt and change your mind.

Upon this warrant shall you have access

Where you with Silvia may confer at large—

For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy,

And (for your friend’s sake) will be glad of you—

Where you may temper her by your persuasion

To hate young Valentine and love my friend.

Pro.

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 composed rhymes

Should be full-fraught with serviceable vows.

Duke.

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

Pro.

Say that upon the altar of her beauty

You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart;