xnsmv/testtesttest huggingface dataset:
Proteus: My tales of love were wont to weary you.
Proteus: I know you joy not in a love discourse.
Proteus: Enough; I read your fortune in your eye.
Proteus: Was this the idol that you worship so?
Proteus: No, but she is an earthly paragon.
Proteus: I will not flatter her.
Proteus: When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills,
Proteus: And I must minister the like to you.
Proteus: Except my mistress.
Proteus: Have I not reason to prefer mine own?
Proteus: Why, Valentine, what braggartism is this?
Proteus: Then let her alone.
Proteus: But she loves you?
Proteus: Go on before. I shall inquire you forth.
Proteus: I must unto the road to disembark
Proteus: Some necessaries that I needs must use,
Proteus: And then I’ll presently attend you.
Proteus: I will.
Proteus: Even as one heat another heat expels,
Proteus: Or as one nail by strength drives out another,
Proteus: So the remembrance of my former love
Proteus: Is by a newer object quite forgotten.
Proteus: Is it mine eye, or Valentine’s praise,
Proteus: Her true perfection, or my false transgression,
Proteus: That makes me reasonless to reason thus?
Proteus: She is fair, and so is Julia that I love—
Proteus: That I did love, for now my love is thawed,
Proteus: Which like a waxen image ’gainst a fire
Proteus: Bears no impression of the thing it was.
Proteus: Methinks my zeal to Valentine is cold,
Proteus: And that I love him not as I was wont.
Proteus: O, but I love his lady too too much,
Proteus: And that’s the reason I love him so little.
Proteus: How shall I dote on her with more advice
Proteus: That thus without advice begin to love her?
Proteus: ’Tis but her picture I have yet beheld,
Proteus: And that hath dazzled my reason’s light;
Proteus: But when I look on her perfections,
Proteus: There is no reason but I shall be blind.
Proteus: If I can check my erring love, I will;
Proteus: If not, to compass her I’ll use my skill.
Proteus: To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn.
Proteus: To love fair Sylvia, shall I be forsworn.
Proteus: To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn.
Proteus: And ev’n that power which gave me first my oath
Proteus: Provokes me to this threefold perjury.
Proteus: Love bade me swear, and love bids me forswear.
Proteus: O sweet-suggesting Love, if thou hast sinned,
Proteus: Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it.
Proteus: At first I did adore a twinkling star,
Proteus: But now I worship a celestial sun;
Proteus: Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken,
Proteus: And he wants wit that wants resolvèd will
Proteus: To learn his wit t’ exchange the bad for better.
Proteus: Fie, fie, unreverend tongue, to call her bad
Proteus: Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferred
Proteus: With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths.
Proteus: I cannot leave to love, and yet I do.
Proteus: But there I leave to love where I should love.
Proteus: Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose;
Proteus: If I keep them, I needs must lose myself;
Proteus: If I lose them, thus find I by their loss:
Proteus: For Valentine, myself; for Julia, Sylvia.
Proteus: I to myself am dearer than a friend,
Proteus: For love is still most precious in itself,
Proteus: And Sylvia— witness heaven that made her fair—
Proteus: Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.
Proteus: I will forget that Julia is alive,
Proteus: Rememb’ring that my love to her is dead;
Proteus: And Valentine I’ll hold an enemy,
Proteus: Aiming at Sylvia as a sweeter friend.
Proteus: I cannot now prove constant to myself
Proteus: Without some treachery used to Valentine.
Proteus: This night he meaneth with a corded ladder
Proteus: To climb celestial Sylvia’s chamber window,
Proteus: Myself in counsel his competitor.
Proteus: Now presently I’ll give her father notice
Proteus: Of their disguising and pretended flight,
Proteus: Who, all enraged, will banish Valentine,
Proteus: For Thurio he intends shall wed his daughter.
Proteus: But Valentine being gone, I’ll quickly cross
Proteus: By some sly trick blunt Thurio’s dull proceeding.
Proteus: Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift,
Proteus: As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift.
Proteus: My gracious lord, that which I would discover
Proteus: The law of friendship bids me to conceal,
Proteus: But when I call to mind your gracious favors
Proteus: Done to me, undeserving as I am,
Proteus: My duty pricks me on to utter that
Proteus: Which else no worldly good should draw from me.
Proteus: Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine my friend
Proteus: This night intends to steal away your daughter;
Proteus: Myself am one made privy to the plot.
Proteus: I know you have determined to bestow her
Proteus: On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates,
Proteus: And should she thus be stol’n away from you,
Proteus: It would be much vexation to your age.
Proteus: Thus, for my duty’s sake, I rather chose
Proteus: To cross my friend in his intended drift
Proteus: Than, by concealing it, heap on your head
Proteus: A pack of sorrows which would press you down,
Proteus: Being unprevented, to your timeless grave.
Proteus: Know, noble lord, they have devised a mean
Proteus: How he her chamber-window will ascend
Proteus: And with a corded ladder fetch her down;
Proteus: For which the youthful lover now is gone,
Proteus: And this way comes he with it presently,
Proteus: Where, if it please you, you may intercept him.
Proteus: But, good my lord, do it so cunningly
Proteus: That my discovery be not aimèd at;
Proteus: For love of you, not hate unto my friend,
Proteus: Hath made me publisher of this pretense.
Proteus: Adieu, my lord. Sir Valentine is coming.
Proteus: Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out.
Proteus: What seest thou?
Proteus: Valentine?
Proteus: Who then? His spirit?
Proteus: What then?
Proteus: Who wouldst thou strike?
Proteus: Villain, forbear.
Proteus: Sirrah, I say forbear.— Friend Valentine, a word.
Proteus: Then in dumb silence will I bury mine,
Proteus: For they are harsh, untunable, and bad.
Proteus: No, Valentine.
Proteus: That thou art banishèd— O, that’s the news—
Proteus: From hence, from Sylvia, and from me thy friend.
Proteus: Ay, ay, and she hath offered to the doom—
Proteus: Which unreversed stands in effectual force—
Proteus: A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears;
Proteus: Those at her father’s churlish feet she tendered,
Proteus: With them, upon her knees, her humble self,
Proteus: Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them
Proteus: As if but now they waxèd pale for woe.
Proteus: But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Proteus: Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears
Proteus: Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire;
Proteus: But Valentine, if he be ta’en, must die.
Proteus: Besides, her intercession chafed him so,
Proteus: When she for thy repeal was suppliant,
Proteus: That to close prison he commanded her
Proteus: With many bitter threats of biding there.
Proteus: Cease to lament for that thou canst not help,
Proteus: And study help for that which thou lament’st.
Proteus: Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
Proteus: Here, if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love;
Proteus: Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.
Proteus: Hope is a lover’s staff; walk hence with that
Proteus: And manage it against despairing thoughts.
Proteus: Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence,
Proteus: Which, being writ to me, shall be delivered
Proteus: Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.
Proteus: The time now serves not to expostulate.
Proteus: Come, I’ll convey thee through the city gate
Proteus: And, ere I part with thee, confer at large
Proteus: Of all that may concern thy love affairs.
Proteus: As thou lov’st Sylvia, though not for thyself,
Proteus: Regard thy danger, and along with me.
Proteus: Go, sirrah, find him out.— Come, Valentine.
Proteus: Gone, my good lord.
Proteus: A little time, my lord, will kill that grief.
Proteus: Longer than I prove loyal to your Grace
Proteus: Let me not live to look upon your Grace.
Proteus: I do, my lord.
Proteus: She did, my lord, when Valentine was here.
Proteus: The best way is to slander Valentine
Proteus: With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent,
Proteus: Three things that women highly hold in hate.
Proteus: Ay, if his enemy deliver it.
Proteus: Therefore it must with circumstance be spoken
Proteus: By one whom she esteemeth as his friend.
Proteus: And that, my lord, I shall be loath to do.
Proteus: ’Tis an ill office for a gentleman,
Proteus: Especially against his very friend.
Proteus: You have prevailed, my lord. If I can do it
Proteus: By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
Proteus: She shall not long continue love to him.
Proteus: But say this weed her love from Valentine,
Proteus: It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio.
Proteus: As much as I can do I will effect.—
Proteus: But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough.
Proteus: You must lay lime to tangle her desires
Proteus: By wailful sonnets, whose composèd rhymes
Proteus: Should be full-fraught with serviceable vows.
Proteus: Say that upon the altar of her beauty
Proteus: You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart.
Proteus: Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears
Proteus: Moist it again, and frame some feeling line
Proteus: That may discover such integrity.
Proteus: For Orpheus’ lute was strung with poets’ sinews,
Proteus: Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,
Proteus: Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans
Proteus: Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.
Proteus: After your dire-lamenting elegies,
Proteus: Visit by night your lady’s chamber window
Proteus: With some sweet consort; to their instruments
Proteus: Tune a deploring dump; the night’s dead silence
Proteus: Will well become such sweet complaining grievance.
Proteus: This, or else nothing, will inherit her.
Proteus: We’ll wait upon your Grace till after supper
Proteus: And afterward determine our proceedings.
Proteus: Already have I been false to Valentine,
Proteus: And now I must be as unjust to Thurio.
Proteus: Under the color of commending him,
Proteus: I have access my own love to prefer.
Proteus: But Sylvia is too fair, too true, too holy
Proteus: To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.
Proteus: When I protest true loyalty to her,
Proteus: She twits me with my falsehood to my friend;
Proteus: When to her beauty I commend my vows,
Proteus: She bids me think how I have been forsworn
Proteus: In breaking faith with Julia, whom I loved;
Proteus: And notwithstanding all her sudden quips,
Proteus: The least whereof would quell a lover’s hope,
Proteus: Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love,
Proteus: The more it grows and fawneth on her still.
Proteus: But here comes Thurio. Now must we to her window
Proteus: And give some evening music to her ear.
Proteus: Ay, gentle Thurio, for you know that love
Proteus: Will creep in service where it cannot go.
Proteus: Sir, but I do, or else I would be hence.
Proteus: Ay, Sylvia, for your sake.
Proteus: Who is Sylvia? What is she,
Proteus: That all our swains commend her?
Proteus: Holy, fair, and wise is she;
Proteus: The heaven such grace did lend her
Proteus: That she might admirèd be.
Proteus: Is she kind as she is fair?
Proteus: For beauty lives with kindness.
Proteus: Love doth to her eyes repair
Proteus: To help him of his blindness;
Proteus: And, being helped, inhabits there.
Proteus: Then to Sylvia let us sing,
Proteus: That Sylvia is excelling;
Proteus: She excels each mortal thing
Proteus: Upon the dull earth dwelling.
Proteus: To her let us garlands bring.
Proteus: Sir Thurio, fear not you. I will so plead
Proteus: That you shall say my cunning drift excels.
Proteus: At Saint Gregory’s well.
Proteus: Madam, good even to your Ladyship.
Proteus: One, lady, if you knew his pure heart’s truth,
Proteus: You would quickly learn to know him by his voice.
Proteus: Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant.
Proteus: That I may compass yours.
Proteus: I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady,
Proteus: But she is dead.
Proteus: I likewise hear that Valentine is dead.
Proteus: Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth.
Proteus: Madam, if your heart be so obdurate,
Proteus: Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love,
Proteus: The picture that is hanging in your chamber;
Proteus: To that I’ll speak, to that I’ll sigh and weep,
Proteus: For since the substance of your perfect self
Proteus: Is else devoted, I am but a shadow;
Proteus: And to your shadow will I make true love.
Proteus: As wretches have o’ernight
Proteus: That wait for execution in the morn.
Proteus: Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well
Proteus: And will employ thee in some service presently.
Proteus: I hope thou wilt. How now, you whoreson peasant?
Proteus: Where have you been these two days loitering?
Proteus: And what says she to my little jewel?
Proteus: But she received my dog?
Proteus: What, didst thou offer her this from me?
Proteus: Go, get thee hence, and find my dog again,
Proteus: Or ne’er return again into my sight.
Proteus: Away, I say. Stayest thou to vex me here?
Proteus: A slave that still an end turns me to shame.
Proteus: Sebastian, I have entertainèd thee,
Proteus: Partly that I have need of such a youth
Proteus: That can with some discretion do my business—
Proteus: For ’tis no trusting to yond foolish lout—
Proteus: But chiefly for thy face and thy behavior,
Proteus: Which, if my augury deceive me not,
Proteus: Witness good bringing-up, fortune, and truth.
Proteus: Therefore, know thou, for this I entertain thee.
Proteus: Go presently, and take this ring with thee;
Proteus: Deliver it to Madam Sylvia.
Proteus: She loved me well delivered it to me.
Proteus: Not so; I think she lives.
Proteus: Why dost thou cry “ Alas”?
Proteus: Wherefore shouldst thou pity her?
Proteus: Well, give her that ring and therewithal
Proteus: This letter. That’s her chamber. Tell my lady
Proteus: I claim the promise for her heavenly picture.
Proteus: Your message done, hie home unto my chamber,
Proteus: Where thou shalt find me sad and solitary.
Proteus: O sir, I find her milder than she was,
Proteus: And yet she takes exceptions at your person.
Proteus: No, that it is too little.
Proteus: She says it is a fair one.
Proteus: But pearls are fair, and the old saying is,
Proteus: Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies’ eyes.
Proteus: Ill, when you talk of war.
Proteus: O, sir, she makes no doubt of that.
Proteus: That you are well derived.
Proteus: O, ay, and pities them.
Proteus: That they are out by lease.
Proteus: Nor I.
Proteus: Neither.
Proteus: And I will follow, more for Sylvia’s love
Proteus: Than hate of Eglamour that goes with her.
Proteus: Madam, this service I have done for you—
Proteus: Though you respect not aught your servant doth—
Proteus: To hazard life, and rescue you from him
Proteus: That would have forced your honor and your love.
Proteus: Vouchsafe me for my meed but one fair look;
Proteus: A smaller boon than this I cannot beg,
Proteus: And less than this I am sure you cannot give.
Proteus: Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came,
Proteus: But by my coming, I have made you happy.
Proteus: What dangerous action, stood it next to death,
Proteus: Would I not undergo for one calm look!
Proteus: O, ’tis the curse in love, and still approved,
Proteus: When women cannot love where they’re beloved.
Proteus: In love
Proteus: Who respects friend?
Proteus: Nay, if the gentle spirit of moving words
Proteus: Can no way change you to a milder form,
Proteus: I’ll woo you like a soldier, at arms’ end,
Proteus: And love you ’gainst the nature of love— force you.
Proteus: I’ll force thee yield to my desire.
Proteus: Valentine!
Proteus: My shame and guilt confounds me.
Proteus: Forgive me, Valentine. If hearty sorrow
Proteus: Be a sufficient ransom for offense,
Proteus: I tender ’t here. I do as truly suffer
Proteus: As e’er I did commit.
Proteus: Look to the boy.
Proteus: Where is that ring, boy?
Proteus: How, let me see.
Proteus: Why, this is the ring I gave to Julia.
Proteus: But how cam’st thou by this ring? At my depart
Proteus: I gave this unto Julia.
Proteus: How? Julia!
Proteus: “ Than men their minds”? ’Tis true. O heaven, were man
Proteus: But constant, he were perfect; that one error
Proteus: Fills him with faults, makes him run through all th’ sins;
Proteus: Inconstancy falls off ere it begins.
Proteus: What is in Sylvia’s face but I may spy
Proteus: More fresh in Julia’s, with a constant eye?
Proteus: Bear witness, heaven, I have my wish forever.
Speed: Sir Proteus, ’save you. Saw you my master?
Speed: Twenty to one, then, he is shipped already,
Speed: And I have played the sheep in losing him.
Speed: You conclude that my master is a shepherd, then, and I a sheep?
Speed: Why, then my horns are his horns, whether I wake or sleep.
Speed: This proves me still a sheep.
Speed: Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance.
Speed: The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks not me. Therefore I am no sheep.
Speed: Such another proof will make me cry “ baa.”
Speed: Ay, sir. I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, a laced mutton, and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a lost mutton, nothing for my labor.
Speed: If the ground be overcharged, you were best stick her.
Speed: Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your letter.
Speed: From a pound to a pin? Fold it over and over,
Speed: ’Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover.
Speed: Ay.
Speed: You mistook, sir. I say she did nod, and you ask me if she did nod, and I say “ ay.”
Speed: Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for your pains.
Speed: Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you.
Speed: Marry, sir, the letter, very orderly, having nothing but the word “ noddy” for my pains.
Speed: And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse.
Speed: Open your purse, that the money and the matter may be both at once delivered.
Speed: Truly, sir, I think you’ll hardly win her.
Speed: Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her, no, not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter. And being so hard to me that brought your mind, I fear she’ll prove as hard to you in telling your mind. Give her no token but stones, for she’s as hard as steel.
Speed: No, not so much as “ Take this for thy pains.” To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testerned me. In requital whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself. And so, sir, I’ll commend you to my master.
Speed: Sir, your glove.
Speed: Why, then, this may be yours, for this is but one.
Speed: Madam Sylvia! Madam Sylvia!
Speed: She is not within hearing, sir.
Speed: Your Worship, sir, or else I mistook.
Speed: And yet I was last chidden for being too slow.
Speed: She that your Worship loves?
Speed: Marry, by these special marks: first, you have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreathe your arms like a malcontent; to relish a love song like a robin redbreast; to walk alone like one that had the pestilence; to sigh like a schoolboy that had lost his ABC; to weep like a young wench that had buried her grandam; to fast like one that takes diet; to watch like one that fears robbing; to speak puling like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to walk like one of the lions. When you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you looked sadly, it was for want of money. And now you are metamorphosed with a mistress, that when I look on you, I can hardly think you my master.
Speed: They are all perceived without you.
Speed: Without you? Nay, that’s certain, for without you were so simple, none else would. But you are so without these follies, that these follies are within you and shine through you like the water in an urinal, that not an eye that sees you but is a physician to comment on your malady.
Speed: She that you gaze on so as she sits at supper?
Speed: Why, sir, I know her not.
Speed: Is she not hard-favored, sir?
Speed: Sir, I know that well enough.
Speed: That she is not so fair as, of you, well-favored.
Speed: That’s because the one is painted, and the other out of all count.
Speed: Marry, sir, so painted to make her fair, that no man counts of her beauty.
Speed: You never saw her since she was deformed.
Speed: Ever since you loved her.
Speed: If you love her, you cannot see her.
Speed: Because love is blind. O, that you had mine eyes, or your own eyes had the lights they were wont to have when you chid at Sir Proteus for going ungartered!
Speed: Your own present folly and her passing deformity; for he, being in love, could not see to garter his hose, and you, being in love, cannot see to put on your hose.
Speed: True, sir, I was in love with my bed. I thank you, you swinged me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you for yours.
Speed: I would you were set, so your affection would cease.
Speed: And have you?
Speed: Are they not lamely writ?
Speed: O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet! Now will he interpret to her.
Speed: O, give ye good ev’n! Here’s a million of manners.
Speed: He should give her interest, and she gives it him.
Speed: And yet you will; and yet another “ yet.”
Speed: O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible
Speed: As a nose on a man’s face, or a weathercock on a steeple!
Speed: My master sues to her, and she hath taught her suitor,
Speed: He being her pupil, to become her tutor.
Speed: O excellent device! Was there ever heard a better?
Speed: That my master, being scribe, to himself should write the letter?
Speed: Nay, I was rhyming. ’Tis you that have the reason.
Speed: To be a spokesman from Madam Sylvia.
Speed: To yourself. Why, she woos you by a figure.
Speed: By a letter, I should say.
Speed: What need she when she hath made you write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest?
Speed: No believing you indeed, sir. But did you perceive her earnest?
Speed: Why, she hath given you a letter.
Speed: And that letter hath she delivered, and there an end.
Speed: I’ll warrant you, ’tis as well.
Speed: For often have you writ to her, and she, in modesty
Speed: Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply,
Speed: Or fearing else some messenger that might her mind discover,
Speed: Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover.
Speed: All this I speak in print, for in print I found it. Why muse you, sir? ’Tis dinnertime.
Speed: Ay, but hearken, sir, though the chameleon love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals and would fain have meat. O, be not like your mistress! Be moved, be moved.
Speed: Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you.
Speed: Not of you.
Speed: ’Twere good you knocked him.
Speed: Lance, by mine honesty, welcome to Padua.
Speed: Come on, you madcap. I’ll to the alehouse with you presently, where, for one shot of five pence, thou shalt have five thousand welcomes. But, sirrah, how did thy master part with Madam Julia?
Speed: But shall she marry him?
Speed: How then? Shall he marry her?
Speed: What, are they broken?
Speed: Why then, how stands the matter with them?
Speed: What an ass art thou! I understand thee not.
Speed: What thou sayst?
Speed: It stands under thee indeed.
Speed: But tell me true, will ’t be a match?
Speed: The conclusion is, then, that it will.
Speed: ’Tis well that I get it so. But, Lance, how sayst thou that my master is become a notable lover?
Speed: Than how?
Speed: Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistak’st me.
Speed: I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover.
Speed: Why?
Speed: At thy service.
Speed: How now, Signior Lance? What news with your Mastership?
Speed: Well, your old vice still: mistake the word. What news, then, in your paper?
Speed: Why, man? How black?
Speed: Let me read them.
Speed: Thou liest. I can.
Speed: Marry, the son of my grandfather.
Speed: Come, fool, come. Try me in thy paper.
Speed: Item, She brews good ale.
Speed: Item, She can sew.
Speed: Item, She can knit.
Speed: Item, She can wash and scour.
Speed: Item, She can spin.
Speed: Item, She hath many nameless virtues.
Speed: Here follow her vices.
Speed: Item, She is not to be kissed fasting in respect of her breath.
Speed: Item, She hath a sweet mouth.
Speed: Item, She doth talk in her sleep.
Speed: Item, She is slow in words.
Speed: Item, She is proud.
Speed: Item, She hath no teeth.
Speed: Item, She is curst.
Speed: Item, She will often praise her liquor.
Speed: Item, She is too liberal.
Speed: Item, She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.