Val. Not mine; my gloves are on.

Speed. Why then this may be your's, for this is but one.

Val. Ha let me see: ay, give it me, it's
mine :-

Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine !
Ah! Silvia! Silvia!

Speed. Madam Silvia ! madam Silvia!
Val. How now, Sirrah?

Speed. She is not within hearing, Sir.
Val. Why, Sir, who bade you call her?
Speed. Your worship, Sir; or else I mistook.
Val. Well, you'll still be too forward.

Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being

too slow.

Val. Go to, Sir; tell me, do you know madam Silvia ?

Speed. She that your worship loves?

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 night she enjoined me to write some lines to one she loves.

Speed. And have you?

Val. I have.

Speed. Are they not lamely writ

Val. No, boy, but as well I can do them :— Peace, here she comes.

Enter SILVIA.

Speed. O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet! now will be interpret to her. Val. Madam and mistress, a thousand good

Val. Why how know you that I am in love?
Speed. Marry, by these special marks: First,
you have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreath
your arms like a male-content: to relish a love-
song, like a robin-red-breast; 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 nad buried her gran-
dam; to fast, like one that takes diet; to
watch, like one that fears robbing; to speak pul-morrows.
ing like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were
wont, when you laugh'd, 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 hard-
ly think you my master.

Val. Are all these things perceiv'd in me?
Speed. They are all perceiv'd without you.
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 uriual; that not an eye, that sees you, but is a physician to comment on your malady.

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

Speed. She, that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper?

Val. Hast thou observ'd that? even she I mean.

Speed. Why, Sir, I know her not.

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,

Unto the secret nameless friend of your's;
Which I was much unwilling to proceed in,
But for my duty to your ladyship.

Sil. I thank you, gentle servant: 'tis very
clerkly done.
[off;
Val. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly
For, being ignorant to whom it goes,

I writ at random, very doubtfully.

Sil. Perchance you think too much of so

much pains?

Val. No, madam; so it stead you, I will write, Please you command, a thousand times as much :

And yet,

Sil. A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel; And yet I will not name it :-and yet I care

not;

Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on And yet take this again;-and yet I thank you; her, and yet know'st her not.

Speed. Is she not hard favoured Sir?

Val. Not so fair, boy, as well favoured.

Speed. Sir, I know that well enough.
Val. What dost thou know?

Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) well favoured.

Val. I mean, that her beauty is exquisite, but ber 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 esteem'st thou me? I account of her beauty.

Speed. You never saw her since she was deformed.

Val. How long hath she been deformed?
Speed. Ever since you loved her;

Val. I have loved her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful.

Speed. If you love her, you cannot see her.
Val. Why?

Speed. Because love is blind. O that you had mine eyes; or your own hand the lights they were wont to have, when you chid at Sir Protens for going ungartered!

• Under a regimen.

Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more. Speed. And yet you will; and yet another [Aside.

yet.

O 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?

SCENE III.-The same.-A Street.

Enter LAUNCE, leading a dog. Laun. 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. think, Crab my dog to be the sourest-natured Speed. To be a spokesman from madam dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father Silvia.

Speed. Nay, I was rhyming: 'tis you that have

the reason.

Val. To do what?

Val. To whom?

I

Speed. To yourself; why, she wooes you by a in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruelfigure.

Val. What figure ?

Speed. By a letter, I should say.

Val. Why, she hath not writ to me? Speed. What need she, when she hath made you write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest?

Val. No, believe me. Speed. No believing you indeed, Sir; But did you perceive her earnest ?

Val. She gave me none, except an angry

word.

Speed. Why, she hath given you a letter.

Val. That's the letter I writ to her friend. Speed. And that letter hath she deliver'd, and there an end. •

Val. I would, it were no worse.
Speed. I'll warrant you, 'tis as well:
For often you have writ to her; and she, in
modesty,

Or else for want of idle time, could not again
reply,

Or fearing else some messenger, that might her mind discover,

Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover.

All this I speak in print; for in print I found it.

Why muse you, Sir? 'tis dinner time.

Val. I have dined.

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: Oh! be not like your mistress, be moved, be moved. [Exeunt.

SCENE 11.-Verona.-A Room in JULIA'S
House.

Enter PROTEUS and JULIA.

Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia.

Jul. I must, where is no remedy.

Pro. When possibly I can, I will return.

wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house hearted cur shed one tear: he is a stone, a very pebble stoue, and has no more pity in him than a dog; a Jew would have wept to have seeu 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 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 vengeance on't! there 'tis: now, Sir, this staff is my sister; for, look you, she is as white as a lily, and as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog :-no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog,-Oh! the dog is me, and I am myself: ay, so, so. Now come I to my 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 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.

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 tied were lost; for it is the unkindest tied that ever any man tied. Pan. What's the unkindest tide ?

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

Pan. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt 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

Jul. If you turn not, you will return the losing thy service,-Why dost thou stop my

sooner:

Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake.
[Giving a ring.
Pro. Why then we'll make exchange; here,

take you this.

Jul. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss.
Pro. Here is my hand for my true constancy;
And when that hour o'er-slips me in the day,
Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake,
The next ensuing hour some foul mischauce
Torment me for my love's forgetfulness!
My father stays my coming; answer not;
The tide is now: nay not the tide of tears;
That tide will stay me longer than I should;
[Exit JULIA.
Julia, farewell.-What! gone without a word ?
Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak;
For truth bath better deeds, than words, to
grace it.

With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,
With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs;
For, in revenge of my contempt of love,
Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes,
And made them watchers of mine own heart's

sorrow.

O gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord;
And hath so humbled me, as, I confess,
There is no woe to his correction,

Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth!
Now, no discourse, except it be of love;

Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep,
Upon the very naked name of love.

Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your

eye :

Was this the idol that you worship so?

Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly
saint?

Pro. No; but she is an earthly paragon.
Val. Call her divine.

Pro. I will not flatter her.

Val. Oh! 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.
Pro. Except my mistress.

Val. Sweet, except not any;

Except thou wilt except against my love.

Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine own?
Val. And I will help thee to prefer her
too:

She shall be dignified with this high honour,-
To bear my lady's train; lest the base earth
Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss,
And, of so great a favour growing proud,
Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower,
And make rough winter everlastingly.

Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is

this?

Val. Pardon me, Proteus: all I can, is nothing To her, whose worth makes other worthies no

thing:

She is alone.

Pro. Then let her alone.

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:
Oh! 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;

SCENE V.-The same.-A Street.

[Exit.

Enter SPEED and LAUNCE.
Speed. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to
Milan.

Laun. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth; for I 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 bostess say, welcome.

Speed. Come on, you mad-cap, I'll to the alehouse with you presently: where, for one shot of fivepence, thou shalt have five thousand welcomes. But, sirrab, how did thy master part with madain 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.

Speed. What, are they broken?

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'll

Val. Not for the world: why man, she is mine but lean, and my staff understands me.

own;

And I as rich in having such a jewel,
As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl,
The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
Forgive me, that I do not dream on thee,
Because thou seest me dote upon my love.
My foolish rival, that her father likes,
Only for his possessions are so huge,
Is gone with her along; and I must after,
For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy.
Pro. But she loves you?

Val. Ay, and we are betroth'd;

Nay, more, our marriage hour,
With all the cunning manner of our flight,
Determin'd of: how I must climb her window;
The ladder made of cords; and all the means
Plotted, and 'greed on, for my happiness.
Good Protens, go with me to my chamber,
In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel.
Pro. Go on before; I shall enquire you
forth:

I must unto the road, to disembark
Some necessaries that I needs must use;
And then I'll presently attend you.
Val. Will you make haste ?

Speed. It stands under thee, indeed.

Laun. Why, stand under and understand is all

one.

Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match? Laun. Ask my dog: if he say, ay, it will; if be say, no, it will: if he shake his tail, and say nothing, 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, Launce, how say'st thou, that thy master is become a notable lover?

Laun. I never knew him otherwise.

Speed. Than how?

Laun. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be.

Speed. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistakest

SCENE VI.-The same.-An Apartment in | But qualify the fire's extreme rage,

Much less shall she, that hath love's wings to His tears, pure messengers sent from his heart;