VALENTINE.
I know it well, sir. You have an exchequer of words and, I think, no other treasure to give your followers, for it appears by their bare liveries that they live by your bare words.
SILVIA.
No more, gentlemen, no more. Here comes my father.
Enter Duke.
DUKE.
Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.
Sir Valentine, your father is in good health.
What say you to a letter from your friends
Of much good news?
VALENTINE.
My lord, I will be thankful
To any happy messenger from thence.
DUKE.
Know ye Don Antonio, your countryman?
VALENTINE.
Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman
To be of worth and worthy estimation,
And not without desert so well reputed.
DUKE.
Hath he not a son?
VALENTINE.
Ay, my good lord, a son that well deserves
The honour and regard of such a father.
DUKE.
You know him well?