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No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.
(Ereunt Ant. and Pant. Pro. Thus have I shuna'd the fire, for fear of
burning; And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd: I fear'd to show my father Julia's letter, Lest he should take exceptions to my love; And with the vantage of mine own excuse Hath he excepted most against my love. o, how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day; Which now shows all the beauty of the sun, And by and by a cloud takes all away!
Re-enter Panthino. Pant. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you; He is in haste, therefore, I pray you, go. · Pro. Why, this it is! my heart accords thereto; And yet a thousand times it answers, no.
SCENE I. Milan. An apartment in the Duke's
palace. Enter Valentine and Speed. Speed. Sir, your glove. Val. Not mine; my gloves are on. Speed. Why then this may be yours, for this is but ope.
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.
Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow. Val. Go to, sir; tell me, do you know madam
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 ro. bin-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 had buried her grandam ; to fast, like one that takes diet#; to watch, like one that fears robhing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmast. 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 waat of money: and now you are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I look on you, I can hardly think you my master
Val. Are all these things perceived in me?
Speed. Without you ? nay, that's certain, for, without you were so simple, vone 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, that sees you, but is a physician to comment on your malady.
Vul. But, tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia? Speed. She, that you gaze on so, as she sits at sup
Val. Hast thou observ'd that? even she I mean.
Speed. Why, sir, I know her not.
Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet know'st ber 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 yon) well favoured.
Val. I mean, that hier 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? Specd. 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 ? 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.
Speed. Because love is blind. O, that you had mine eyes; or your own had the lights they were wont to have, whien you chid at Sir Proteus for going ungartered I
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, whicha 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 affectiou would cease.
Val. Last night she enjoined me to write some lines to one she loves.
Speed. And have you?
Val. No, boy, but as well as I can do them :-
Speed. O excellent motion"! O exceeding puppet! 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, Unto the secret nameless friend of yours; Which I was much unwilling to proceed in, But for my duly to your ladyship. Sil. I thank you, gentle servant: 'tis very clerklyt
done. Val. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off ; 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; And yet take this again ;—and yet I thank you ; Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more.
• A puppet-show.
+ Like a scholar.
Speed. And yet you will; and yet another yet.
(Aside. Val. What means your ladyship? do you not like
it? Sil. Yes, yes; the lines are very quaintly writ: But since unwillingly, take them again; Nay, take them.
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.
Vul. Please you, I'll write your ladysbip 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.
(Erit Silvia. Speed. O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a
steeple! My master sues to her; and she hatlı taught her
suitor, He being her pupil, to become her tutor. 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?
Speed. Nay, I was rhyming; 'tis you that have the reason.
Val. To do what?
Speed. To yourself: why, she wooes you by a figure.
Vul. What figure?
Speed. What need she, when she hath made you write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest?