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Pro. Upon fome book I love I'll pray for thee. *
Val. To be in love, where fcorn is bought with groans,
Coy looks, with heart-fore fighs; one moment's mirth,
With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights;
If haply won, perhaps an hapless gain;

If loft, why then a grievous labour won;
However, but a folly bought with wit,
Or elfe a wit by folly vanquished.-

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Pro. So by your circumstance you call me fool.
Val. So by your circumftance I fear you'll prove,
Pro. 'Tis love you cavil at; I am not love.

Val. Love is your mafter; for he mafters you.
And he that is fo yoaked by a fool,

Methinks, fhould not be chronicled for wife,
Pro. Yet writers fay, as in the sweetest bud
The eating canker dwells; fo eating love
Inhabits in the fineft wits of all.

Val. And writers fay, as the moft forward bud
Is eaten by the canker ere it blow;
Even fo by love the young and tender wit
Is turn'd to folly, blafting in the bud,
Lofing his verdure even in the prime,
And all the fair effects of future hopes.
But wherefore wafte I time to counsel thee,
That art a votary to fond defire?

Once more adieu: my father at the road

Expects my coming, there to fee me shipp'd.

Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.

Val. Sweet Protheus, no: now let us take our leave. At Milan let me hear from thee by letters

Of thy fuccefs in love; and what news elfe

I'll pray for thec.

Val. That's on fome fhallow ftory of deep love,
How young Leander crof'd the Hellefpont.
Pro. That's a deep ftory of a deeper love,

For he was more than over fhoes in love.
Val. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love,

And yet you never fwom the Hellefpont.

Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots.
Val. No, I will not; for it boots thee not,

Pro. What?

Val. To be in love, &c.


Betideth here in abfence of thy friend :

And I likewife will vifit thee with mine.

Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan! Val. As much to you at home; and fo farewel. [Exit. Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love; He leaves his friends to dignifie them more; I leave my felf, my friends, and all for love. Thou, Julia, thou haft metamorphos'd me; Made me neglect my studies, lose my time, War with good counfel, fet the world at nought; Made wit with mufing weak, heart fick with thought. SCENE II. Enter Speed.

Speed. Sir Protheus, fave you; faw you, Sir, my mafter? Pro. But now he parted hence t'embark for Milan. Speed. Twenty to one then he is fhipp'd already, And I have play'd the sheep in lofing him.

Pro. Indeed a fheep doth very often stray,

An if the shepherd be a while away.

Speed. You conclude that my mafter is a fhepherd then, and I a fheep?

Pro. I do.

Speed. Why then my horns are his horns, whether I wake or fleep.

Pro. A filly anfwer, and fitting well a fheep,
Speed. This proves me ftill a fheep.

Pro. True; and thy mafter a shepherd.

Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance.

Pro. It fhall go hard but I'll prove it by another.

Speed. The fhepherd seeks the sheep, and not the fheep the shepherd; but I seek my mafter, and my master seeks not me; therefore I am no fheep.

Pro. The sheep for fodder follows the fhepherd, the fhepherd for food follows not the sheep; thou for wages followest thy mafter, thy master for wages follows not thee; therefore thou art a fheep.

Speed. Such another proof will make me cry Baá. Pro. But doft thou hear? gaveft thou my letter to Julia?

Speed, Ay, Sir; I, a loft-mutton, gave your letter to

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her, a lac'd-mutton *; and fhe a lac'd-mutton, gave me a loft-mutton, nothing for my labour.

Pro. Here's too fmall a pasture for such store of muttons. Speed. If the ground be over-charg'd, you were beft ftick her.

Pro. Nay, in that you are a stray 'twere beft pound you, Speed. Nay, Sir, less than a pound fhall farve me for carrying your letter.

Pro. You mistake; I mean the pound, a pin-fold.

Speed. From a pound to a pin ? fold it over and over, "Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover, Pro. But what faid fhe?

Speed. She nodded and said, I.

Pro. Nad-I? why, that's noddy.

Speed. You miftook, Sir; I faid, fhe did nod: And you afk me if fhe did nod; and I said, ay. Pro. And that fet together, is noddy.

Speed. Now you have taken the pains to fet it together, take it for your pains.

Pro. No, no, you fhall have it for bearing the letter. Speed. Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you, Pro. Why, Sir, how do you bear with me? Speed. Marry, Sir, the letter very orderly, Having nothing but the word noddy for my pains. Pro. Befhrew me but you have a quick wit.

Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your flow purse. Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief; what faid fhe?

Speed. Open your purfe, that the money and the matter may be both deliver❜d.

Pro. Well, Sir, here is for your pains; what faid fhe? Speed. Truly, Sir, I think you'll hardly win her.

Pro. Why? could't thou perceive fo much from her? Speed. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; No, not fo much as a ducket for delivering your letter. And being fo hard to me that brought your mind, I fear fhe'll prove as hard to you in telling her mind. Give her no token but ftones; for fhe's as hard as steel. Pro. What, faid the nothing?

↑ Lac'd mutton is a phrase anciently used for a lady of pleasure.


Speed. No, not fo much as take this for thy pains: To teftifie your bounty, I thank you, you have tefter'd me: In requital whereof, henceforth carry your letter your felf: and fo, Sir, I'll commend you to my master.

Pro. Go, go, be gone, to fave your fhip from wreck, Which cannot perish, having thee aboard, Being deftin'd to a drier death on fhore, I must go fend fome better messenger : I fear, my Julia would not deign my lines, Receiving them from fuch a worthless poft. SCENE III. Changes to Julia's Chamber. Enter Julia and Lucetta.


Jul. But fay, Lucetta, now we are alone,
Wouldst thou then counfel me to fall in love?
Luc. Ay, Madam, so you stumble not unheedfully.
Jul. Of all the fair refort of gentlemen
That ev'ry day with parle encounter me,
In thy opinion which is worthieft love?

Luc. Please you repeat their names, I'll fhew my mind, According to my fhallow fimple skill.

ful. What think'ft thou of the fair Sir Eglamour? Luc. As of a Knight well spoken, neat and fine; But were I you, he never fhould be mine.

Jul. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio? Luc. Well of his wealth; but of himself, fo, fo. Jul. What think'st thou of the gentle Protheus? Luc. Lord, lord! to fee what folly reigns in us! Jul. How now? what means this paffion at his name? Luc. Pardon, dear Madam; 'tis a palling shame That I, unworthy body as I am,

Should cenfure pafs on lovely gentlemen.

Jul. Why not on Protheus as on all the reft?
Luc. Then thus; of many good, I think him beft.
Jul. Your reafon ?.

Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason;

I think him fo, because I think him fo.

Jul. And would'st thou have me cast my love on him?
Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.
Jul. Why, he of all the reft hath never mov'd me.
Luc. Yet he of all the reft, I think, beft loves ye.

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Jul. His little fpeaking fhews his love but small.
Luc. The fire that's clofeft kept burns most of all,
Jul. They do not love that do not fhew their love.
Luc. Oh, they love least that let men know their love,
Jul. I would I knew his mind.
Luc. Perufe this paper, Madam.
Jul. To Julia; fay from whom?
Luc. That the contents will fhew.
Jul. Say, fay; who gave it thee?


Luc. Sir Valentine's page; and fent, I think, from ProHe would have giv'n it you, but I being by

Did in your name receive it; pardon me.

Jul. Now, by my modefty, a goodly broker!
Dare you prefume to harbour wanton lines?
To whisper and confpire againft my youth?
Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth,
1 And you an officer fit for the place.

There, take the paper; fee it be return'd,
Or elfe return no more into my fight.

Luc. To plead for love deferves more fee than hate.

Jul. Will ye be gone?

Luc. That you may ruminate.

[Afide.] [Exit

Jul. And yet I would I had o'er-look'd the letter.

It were a fhame to call her back again,

And pray her to a fault, for which I chid her,
What fool is fhe that knows I am a maid,

And would not force the letter to my view?
Since maids in modesty say no to that

Which they would have the proff'rer conftrue ay.
Fie, fie; how wayward is this foolish love,
That, like a tefty babe, will fcratch the nurse,
And prefently all humbled kiss the rod !
How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,
When willingly I would have had her here!
How angerly I taught my brow to frown,
When inward joy enforc'd my heart to fmile!
My penance is to call Lucetta back,
And ask remiffion for my folly past.
What ho! Lucetta!


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