Launce. I will try thee. Tell me this: who begot thee? Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather.

Launce. O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy grandmother: this proves that thou canst not read. 290 Speed. Come, fool, come; try me in thy paper. Launce. There; and Saint Nicholas be thy speed! Speed [reads]. 'Imprimis: She can milk.'

Launce. Ay, that she can.

Speed. 'Item: She brews good ale.'

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: Launce. And thereof comes the proverb: 'Blessing of

your heart, you brew good ale.'

Speed. 'Item: She can sew.'

Launce. That's as much as to say, Can she so?

Speed. 'Item: She can knit.'

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Launce. What need a man care for a stock with a

wench, when she can knit him a stock?

Speed. 'Item: She can wash and scour.'

Launce. A special virtue; for then she need not be washed and scoured.

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Speed. 'Item: She can spin.'

Launce. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living.

Speed. 'Item: She hath many nameless virtues.'

Launce. That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have

no names.

Speed. Here follow her vices.'

Launce. Close at the heels of her virtues.

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Speed. 'Item: She is not to be kissed fasting, in respect of her breath.'

293, 294 om. Farmer conj.

F2F3F4

293 Imprimis] F3F4. Inprimis F1F2.

1

313 follow] F1. followes F2. follows F3F4

Launce. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast. Read on.

320

Speed. 'Item: She hath a sweet mouth.' Launce. That makes amends for her sour breath. Speed. 'Item: She doth talk in her sleep.' Launce. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk.

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Speed. 'Item: She is slow in words.' Launce. O villain, that set this down among her vices ! To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue: I pray thee, out with 't, and place it for her chief virtue.

Speed. 'Item: She is proud.'

Launce. Out with that too; it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her.

Speed. 'Item: She hath no teeth.'

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Launce. I care not for that neither, because I love

crusts.

Speed. 'Item: She is curst.'

Launce. Well, the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. 335 Speed. 'Item: She will often praise her liquor.'

Launce. If her liquor be good, she shall: if she will

not, I will; for good things should be praised.

Speed. 'Item: She is too liberal.'

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Launce. Of her tongue she cannot, for that's writ down she is slow of; of her purse she shall not, for that I'll keep shut: now, of another thing she may, and that cannot I help. Well, proceed.

Speed. 'Item: She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.'

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Launce. Stop there; I'll have her: she was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that last article. Rehearse that

once more.

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Speed. 'Item: She hath more hair than wit,'Launce. More hair than wit? It may be; I'll prove it. The cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it is more than the salt; the hair that covers the wit is more than the wit, for the greater hides the less. What's next?

Speed.

Launce.

That's monstrous: O, that that were out! 355

Speed. And more wealth than faults.'

Launce. Why, that word makes the faults gracious. Well, I'll have her: and if it be a match, as nothing is impossible,

Speed. What then?

360

Launce. Why, then will I tell thee that thy master

stays for thee at the North-gate?

Speed. For me?

Launce. For thee! ay, who art thou? he hath stayed for a better man than thee.

Speed. And must I go to him?

365

Launce. Thou must run to him, for thou hast stayed

so long, that going will scarce serve the turn.

Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner? pox of your love-letters!

[Exit. 370

Launce. Now will he be swinged for reading my letter, -an unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into secrets! I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction.

SCENE II. The same. The DUKE's palace.

Enter DUKE and THURIO.

Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love you, Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight.

Thu. Since his exile she hath despised me most,
Forsworn my company, and rail'd at me,
That I am desperate of obtaining her.

Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure
Trenched in ice, which with an hour's heat
Dissolves to water, and doth lose his form.
A little time will melt her frozen thoughts,
And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.

Enter PROTEUS.

How now, Sir Proteus! Is your countryman,
According to our proclamation, gone?
Pro. Gone, my good lord.

Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously.
Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief.
Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so.
Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee-
For thou hast shown some sign of good desert-
Makes me the better to confer with thee.

Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your Grace

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10

15

20

Let me not live to look upon your Grace.

Duke. Thou know'st how willingly I would effect The match between Sir Thurio and my daughter. Pro. I do, my lord.

Duke. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant
How she opposes her against my will.
Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here.
Duke. Ay, and perversely she persevers so.
What might we do to make the girl forget
The love of Valentine, and love Sir Thurio?
Pro. The best way is to slander Valentine
With falsehood, cowardice and poor descent,
Three things that women highly hold in hate.
Duke. Ay, but she'll think that it is spoke in hate.
Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it :

Therefore it must with circumstance be spoken
By one whom she esteemeth as his friend.

Duke. Then you must undertake to slander him.
Pro. And that, my lord, I shall be loath to do:

'Tis an ill office for a gentleman,

Especially against his very friend.

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30

35

40

Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage him,

Your slander never can endamage him;

Therefore the office is indifferent,

Being entreated to it by your friend.

Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord: if I can do it

By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,

45