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Love bad me fwear, and love bids me forfwear :
O fweet-suggesting love! if I have finn'd,
Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it.
At first I did adore a twinkling ftar,
But now I worship a celeftial fun.

Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken;
And he wants wit, that wants refolved will
To learn his wit t'exchange the bad for better.
Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad,
Whose Sov'reignty fo oft thou haft preferr'd
With twenty thousand foul-confirming oaths.
I cannot leave to love, and yet I do :

But there I leave to love, where I should love:
Julia I lofe, and Valentine I lofe :

If I keep them, I needs must lose myself :
If I lose them, this find I by their loss,
For Valentine, my felf; for Julia, Silvia.
I to my self am dearer than a friend;
For love is ftill moft precious in its felf:
And Silvia, (witness heav'n, that made her fair!).
Shews Julia but a fwarthy Ethiope.

I will forget that Julia is alive,
Remembring that my love to her is dead:
And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,

Aiming at Silvia as a fweeter friend.

I cannot now prove conftant to my self,
Without fome treachery us'd to Valentine:
This night, he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celeftial Silvia's chamber-window;
My felf in counsel his competitor.
Now presently I'll give her father notice
Of their disguifing, and pretended flight;
Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentine:
For Thurio, he intends, fhall wed his daughter.

If THOU HAST finn'd] We must certainly read
If I HAVE finn'd.

But,

But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross,
By fome fly trick, blunt Thurio's dull proceeding.
Love, lend me wings to make my purpose fwift,
As thou haft lent me wit to plot this drift!

[blocks in formation]

Changes to Julia's Houfe in Verona.
Enter Julia and Lucetta.

Ful. Co

[Exit.

Ounfel, Lucetta; gentle girl, affift me;
And, even in kind love, I do conjure thee,
Who art the table wherein all my thoughts
Are vifibly character'd and engrav'd,
To leffon me; and tell me fome good mean,
How with my honour I may undertake.
A journey to my loving Protheus.

Luc. Alas! the way is wearifome and long.
Jul. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary
To meafure kingdoms with his feeble steps;
Much lefs fhall fhe, that hath love's wings to fly;
And when the flight is made to one fo dear,
Of fuch divine perfection, as Sir Protheus.

Luc. Better forbear, 'till Protheus make return. Jul. Oh, know'ft thou not, his looks are my foul's food?

Pity the dearth, that I have pined in,
By longing for that food fo long a time.
Didft thou but know the inly touch of love,
Thou would'st as foon go kindle fire with fnow,
As feek to quench the fire of love with words.
Luc. I do not feek to quench your love's hot fire,
But qualifie the fire's extream rage,

Left it fhould burn above the bounds of reafon.
Jul. The more thou damm'ft it up, the more it
burns:

• The

• The current, that with gentle murmur glides,

• Thou know'ft, being ftopp'd, impatiently doth rage; • But when his fair courfe is not hindered,

• He makes fweet mufick with th' enamel'd ftones; • Giving a gentle kifs to every fedge

• He overtaketh in his pilgrimage:

And fo by many winding nooks he strays, • With willing fport, to the wild ocean. • Then let me go, and hinder not my course; I'll be as patient as a gentle ftream,

And make a paftime of each weary step,
• 'Till the last step have brought me to my love;
• And there I'll reft, as after much turmoil,
• A bleffed foul doth in Elyfum.

Luc. But in what habit will you go along?
Jul. Not like a woman; for I would prevent
The loose encounters of lafcivious men:
Gentle Lucetta, fit me with fuch weeds
As may befeem fome well-reputed page.

Luc. Why then your ladyfhip muft cut your hair.
Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in filken strings,
With twenty odd-conceited true-love-knots :
To be fantastick, may become a youth
Of greater time than I fhall fhew to be.

[breeches?'

Luc. What fashion, Madam, fhall I make your Jul. That fits as well, as" tell me, good my lord, "What compass will you wear your farthingale? Why, even what fashion thou beft like'ft, Lucetta. Luc. You must needs have them with a cod-piece, Madam.

Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd. Luc. A round hofe, Madam, now's not worth a pin, Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on.

Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'ft me, let me have What thou think'ft meet, and is most mannerly: But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me

For

For undertaking fo unftaid a journey?

I fear me, it will make me fcandaliz'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.
If Protheus like your journey, when you come,
No matter who's difpleas'd, when you are gone:
I fear me, he will scarce be pleas'd withal.
ful. That is the leaft, Lucetta, of my fear:
A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
And inftances as infinite of love,

Warrant me welcome to my Protheus.

Luc. All these are fervants to deceitful men. Jul. Bafe men, that use them to fo base effect! But truer ftars did govern Protheus' birth; His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles; His love fincere, his thoughts immaculate; His tears, pure meffengers fent from his heart; His heart as far from fraud, as heav'n from earth. Luc. Pray heav'n he prove fo, when you come to him!

Jul. Now, as thou lov'ft me, do him not that wrong, To bear a hard opinion of his truth; Only deferve my love, by loving him ; And prefently go with me to my chamber, To take a note, of what I ftand in need of, To furnish me upon my longing journey. All that is mine I leave at thy difpofe, My goods, my lands, my reputation; Only, in lieu thereof, difpatch me hence: Come, answer not; but do it presently: I am impatient of my tarriance.

[Exeunt.

ACT

ACT III.

SCENE I.

The Duke's Palace in Milan.

Enter Duke, Thurio, and Protheus.

DUKE.

SIR Thurio, give us leave, I pray, a while;

We fecrets to confer about.

[Exit Thur. Now tell me, Protheus, what's your will with me? Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would difcover, The law of friendship bids me to conceal ;

But when I call to mind your gracious favours
Done to me, undeferving as I am,

My duty pricks me on to utter that,

Which, elfe, no worldly good should draw from me,
Know, worthy Prince, Sir Valentine my friend
This night intends to steal away your daughter:
My felf am one made privy to the plot.
I know, you have determin'd to bestow her
On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates:
And fhould fhe thus be ftoll'n away from you,
It would be much vexation to your age.
Thus, for my duty's fake, I rather chofe
To cross my friend in his intended drift;
Than, by concealing it, heap on your head
A pack of forrows, which would prefs you down,
If unprevented, to your timeless grave.

Duke. Protheus, I thank thee for thine honeft care
Which to requite, command me while I live..
This love of theirs my felf have often seen.
Haply, when they have judg'd me fast asleep;
And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid
Sir Valentine her company, and my court:
VOL. I.

Р

But,

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