out is a physician to comment on your malady. Val. Hast thou observ'd that? even she I mean. Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet know'st her not? Speed. Is she not hard-favour'd, sir? Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) well favoured. Val. I mean, that her beauty is exquisite, but her favour infinite. Speed. That's because the one is painted, and the other out of all count. Val. How painted? and how out of count? Speed. Marry, sir, so painted, to make her fair, that no man counts of her beauty. Val. How esteemest thou me? I account of her beauty. Speed. You never saw her since she was deformed. Val. How long hath she been deformed? Val. I have loved her ever since I saw her, and still I see her beautiful. But for my duty to your ladysnip. Sil. I thank you, gentle servant: 'tis very clerkly done. Val. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off; For, being ignorant to whom it goes, writ at randoni, very doubtfully. I Sil. Perchance you think too much of so much pains? Val. No, madam; so it stead you, I will write, Sil. A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel; Asids. Val. What means your ladyship? do you not Sil. Yes, yes; the lines are very quaintly writ: Val. Madam, they are for you. Sil. Ay, ay; you writ them, sir, at my request: But I will none of them; they are for you: I would have had them writ more movingly. Val. Please you, I'll write your ladyship another. Sil. And, when it's writ, for my sake read it over : And, if it please you, so; if not, why, so. Val. If it please me, madam! what then? Sil. Why, if it please you, take it for your labour And so good morrow, servant. Exit Silvia. Speed. O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, wont to have, when you chid at Sir Proteus for As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a going ungartered! Speed. If you love her, you cannot see her. Speed. Because love is blind. O, that you had mine eyes; or your own had the lights they were Val. What should I see then? 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 last morning you could not see to wipe my shoes. 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. Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her. Speed. I would you were set; so, your affection would cease. Val. Last right she enjoined me to write some lines to one she loves. Speed. And have you? Vat. I have. Speed. Are they not lamely writ ? Val. No, boy, but as well as I can do them :Peace, here she comes. Enter Silvia. steeple! My master sues to her; and she hath taught he. suitor, He being her pupil, to become her tutor. excellent device! was there ever heard a better? That my master, being scribe, to himself should write the letter? Val. How now, sir? what are you reasoning with yourself? Speed. Nay, I was rhyming; 'tis you that have the reason. Speed. No believing you indeed, sir; but did Speed. O excellent motion! O exceeding pup-you perceive her earnest? pet! now will he interpret to her. Val. Madam and mistress, a thousand good morrows. Speed. O, 'give you good even! here's a million of manners. [Aside. Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand. Speed. He should give her interest; and she gives it him. Val. As you enjoin'd me, I have writ your letter, Val. She gave me none, except an angry word. Val. I would, it were no worse. For often you have writ to her; and she, in modesty, Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply, 14) There's the conclusion Or fearing else some messenger, that might her so. Now come I to my father; Father, your bless All this I speak in print; for in print I found it.— kiss her ;-why there 'tis ; here's my mother's breath Speed. Ay, but hearken, sir: though the cameleon, 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. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Verona. A room in Julia's house. Enter Proteus and Julia. Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia. take you this. Jul. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss. (Exit Julia. Enter Panthino. Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy master is shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? why weepest thou, man? Away, ass; you will lose the tide, if you tarry any longer. Laun. It is no matter if the ty'd were lost; for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever any man ty'd. Pan. What's the unkindest tide? Laun. Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my dog. Pan. Tut, man, I mean thoul't lose the flood, and, in losing the flood, lose thy voyage; and, in losing thy voyage lose hy master; and, in losing thy master, lose thy service; and, in losing thy service,Why dost thou stop my mouth! Laun. For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue. Pan. In thy tail? Laun. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service? The tide!--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. Pan. Come, come away, man, I was sent to call thee. Laun. Sir, call me what thou darest. Pan. Wilt thou go? Laun. Well, I will go. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Milan. An apartment in the Duke's palace. Enter Valentine, Silvia, Thurio, and Speed. Sil. Servant Val. Mistress? Speed. Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you. Val. Of my mistress then. Speed. 'Twere good, you knocked him. Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so. Thu. So do counterfeits. Thu. What seem I, that I am not? Launce, Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind' of the Launces have this very fault: I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think, Crab my dog be the Bourest-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 pebblestone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam naving no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner of it: This shoe is 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 he hole in it, is my mother, and this my father: a rengeance on't! there 'tis: now, sir, this staff is my sister; for, look you, she is as white as a lily, and as emall as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog-no, the dog is himself, and I am the Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood, dog.-O, the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, than live in your air. Thu. What instance of the contrary? Thu. And how quote you my fo"y? Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly. Sil. What, angry, sir Thurio? do you change colour? Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of cameleon. Val. You have said, sir. Thu. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time. 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? Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire: Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's ooks, and spends what he borrows, kindly in your company. Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt. Val. 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. Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more; here comes my father. Enter Duke. Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset. man? Val. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman Duke. Hath he not a son? Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well de serves The honour and regard of such a father. Val. I knew him as myself; for from our in- We have convers'd, and spent our hours together: To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection; He is as worthy for an empress' love, Duke. Welcome him then according to been his Silvia, I speak to you; and you, Sir Thurio :- E Sil. Belike, that now she hath enfranchis'd them Upon some other pawn for fealty. Val. Nay, sure, I think, she holds them priso. ners still. Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind, How could he see his way to seek out you? Val. Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. Thu. They say, that love hath not an eye at all. Val. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself; Upon a homely object love can wink. Enter Proteus. Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman. Val. Welcome, dear Proteus!-Mistress, I be Confirm his welcome with some special favour. Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a servant. Val. Leave off discourse of disability :- Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed; No; that you are worthless. Ser. Madam, my lord your father would speak Sil. I'll wait upon his pleasure. [Exit Servant. [Exeunt Silvia, Thurio, and Speed. Val. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came? Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much Val. And how do yours? Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now: row. O, gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord; Pro. Enough; I read vour fortune in your eye Was this the idol that you worship so? Pro. I will not flatter her. Val. O, flatter me; for love delights in praises. Pro. When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills; And I must minister the like to you. Val. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine,! Yet let her be a principality, Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth. Val. Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this? Val. Pardon me, Proteus: all I can, is nothing To her, whose worth makes other worthies nothing; She is alone. Pro. Then let her alone. 'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld, Speed. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome Milan. Laun. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth; for 1 am not welcome. I reckon this always-that a man is never undone, till he be hanged; nor never welcome to a place, till some certain shot be paid, and the hostess say, welcome. Speed. Come on, you mad-cap, 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. Laun. Marry, after they closed in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest. Speed. But shall she marry him? Laun. No. Speed. How then? shall he marry her? Laun. No, neither. Val. Not for the world: why, man, she is mine Speed. What, are they broken? own; And I as rich in having such a jewel, Val. Will you make haste? Pro. I will. [Exit Val. Even as one heat another heat expels, 1) On further knowledge. Laun. No, they are both as whole as a fish. Speed. Why then, how stands the matter with them? Laun. Marry, thus; when it stands well with him, it stands well with her. Speed. What an ass art thou! I understand thee not. Laun. What a block art thou, that thou canst not! My staff understands me. Speed. What thou say'st? Laun. Ay, and what I do too: look thee, I'l but lean, and my staff understands me. Speed. It stands under thee, indeed. Laun. Why, stand under and understand is al one. Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match? Laun. Ask my dog: if he say, ay, it will; if he say, no, it will; if he shake his tail, and sɛy no thing, it will. Speed. The conclusion is then, that it will. Laun. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me, but by a parable. Speed. 'Tis well that I get it so. But, L.nce, how say'st thou, that my master is become a notable lover? Laun. I never knew him otherwise. Laun. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be. Scene VII. TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. SCENE VI.-The same. An apartment in the But qualify the fire's extreme rage, palace. Enter Proteus. Pro. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn; To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn; Love bade me swear, and love bids me forswear: But there I leave to love, where I should love. And Silvia, witness heaven, that made her fair! I will forget that Julia is alive, SCENE VII-Verona. A room in Julia's Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me! Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long. Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return. Pity the dearth that I have pined in, (3) Intended. Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire; The current, that with gentle murmur glides, But, when his fair course is not hindered, He overtaketh in his pilgrimage; Luc. But in what habit will you go along? Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in silken strings, Of greater time than I shall show to be. Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your breeches? Jul. That fits as well, as-' tell me, good me What compass will you wear your farthingale ?' piece, madam. Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd. pin, Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on. Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly: But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me, For undertaking so unstaid a journey? I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd. Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and go not. Jul. Nay, that I will not. Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go. Luc. All these are servants to deceitful mer to him! Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not tha wrong, To bear a hard opinion of his truth: (4) Closest, (5) Trouble |