Val. Go to, sir. Tell me, do you know Madam Silvia ?

Speed. She that your worship loves?

15

Val. Why, how know you that I am in love? Speed. Marry, by these special marks: first, you have learn'd, like Sir Proteus, to wreathe your arms like a malcontent; to relish a love- [20 song, like a robin-redbreast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a school-boy that had lost his A B C; 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, [25 like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont,

when you laugh'd, to crow like a cock; when you walk'd, to walk like one of the lions, when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you look'd sadly, it was for want of [s0 money and now you are metamorphos'd with a mistress, that, when I look on you, I can hardly think you my master.

Val. Are all these things perceiv'd in me? Speed. They are all perceiv'd without ye. 35 Val. Without me? They cannot.

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 [40 that sees you but is a physician to comment on your malady.

Val. But tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia ?

45

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.

Val. Belike, boy, then, you are in love; for [85 last morning you could not see to wipe my shoes.

Speed. True, sir; I was in love with my bed. I thank you, you swing'd me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you for yours.

Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her, so Speed. I would you were set, so your affection would cease.

SCENE III. [The same. A street.]

Enter LAUNCE [leading a dog].

Launce. Nay, 't will be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault. I have receiv'd my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think Crab [ my dog be the sourest-natured dog that lives. My mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear. He is a stone, a very pebble [10 stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog. A Jew would have wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam, having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner of it. This shoe is [15 my father; no, this left shoe is my father; no, no, this left shoe is my mother; nay, that cannot be so neither; yes, it is so, it is so, it hath the worser sole. This shoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father; a ven- [20 geance on 't! there 'tis. Now, sir, this staff is my sister, for, look you, she is as white as a lily and as sinall as a wand. This hat is Nan, our maid. I am the dog; no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog, O! the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so. Now come I to my [25 father: "Father, your blessing." Now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping. Now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on. Now come I to my mother. Oh, that she could speak now like a wood woman! Well, I kiss [30 her; why, there 'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down. Now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes. Now the dog all this while sheds not a tear nor speaks a word; but see how I lay the dust with my tears.

[Enter PANTHINO.]

[35

Launce. Why, he that 's tied here, Crab, my dog.

Pan. Tut, man, I mean thou 'It lose the flood, and, in losing the flood, lose thy voyage, and, in losing thy voyage, lose thy master, and, in losing thy master, lose thy service, and, in losing thy service, Why dost thou stop my mouth? so Launce. For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue. Pan. Where should I lose my tongue? Launce. In thy tale.

Pan. In thy tail!

Launce. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service, and the tied! Why, man, if the river were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the wind were down, I could drive the boat with my sighs.

60

Pan. Come, come away, man; I was sent to call thee.

Launce. Sir, call me what thou dar'st.
Pan. Wilt thou go?

Launce. Well, I will go.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. [Milan. The Duke's palace.]

Enter SILVIA, VALENTINE, THURIO, and SPEED.

Sil. Servant!

Val. Mistress?

Speed. Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you. Val. Ay, boy, it's for love.

Speed. Not of you.

Val. Of my mistress, then.

Speed. 'T were good you knock'd him.

Sil. Servant, you are sad.

Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so.
Thu. Seem you that you are not?
Val. Haply I do.

Thu. So do counterfeits.
Val. So do you.

Thu. What seem I that I am not?
Val. Wise.

Thu. What instance of the contrary?
Val. Your folly.

Thu. And how quote you my folly?
Val. I quote it in your jerkin.
Thu. My jerkin is a doublet.

[Exit.]

Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly. Thu. How?

10

15

20

Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio! Do you change colour?

Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of chameleon.

Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood than live in your air.

Val. You have said, sir.

Thu. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time. 30 Val. I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin.

Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off.

Val. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver.

Sil. Who is that, servant?

35

Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire. Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your

Or as one nail by strength drives out another,
So the remembrance of my former love
Is by a newer object quite forgotten.

195

205

Is it mine [eye], or Valentinus' praise,
Her true perfection, or my false transgression,
That makes me, reasonless, to reason thus ?
She is fair; and so is Julia that I love -
That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd; 200
Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire,
Bears no impression of the thing it was.
Methinks my zeal to Valentine is cold,
And that I love him not as I was wont.
O, but I love his lady too too much!
And that's the reason I love him so little.
How shall I dote on her with more advice,
That thus without advice begin to love her!
'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld,
And that hath dazzled my reason's light;
But when I look on her perfections,
There is no reason but I shall be blind.
If I can check my erring love, I will;
If not, to compass her I'll use my skill. [Exit
SCENE V. [The same. A street.]

210

Enter SPEED and LAUNCE [severally). Speed. Launce! By mine honesty, welcome to Milan !

Launce. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth, for I am not welcome. I reckon this always, that a man is never undone till he be hang'd, [s nor never welcome to a place till some certain shot be paid and the hostess say, "Welcome!"

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 [10 welcomes. But, sirrah, how did thy master part with Madam Julia ?

Launce. Marry, after they clos'd in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest.

Speed. But shall she marry him?

Launce. No.

Speed. How then? Shall he marry her? Launce. No, neither.

Speed. What, are they broken?

15

Launce. No, they are both as whole as a fish.

20

Speed. Why, then, how stands the matter with them?

Launce. Marry, thus: when it stands well with him, it stands well with her.

Speed. What an ass art thou! I understand [25 thee not.

Launce. What a block art thou, that thou canst not! My staff understands me. Speed. What thou say'st?