It were a shame to call her back again
And pray her to a fault for which I chid her.
What a fool is she, 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 profferer construe 'ay.'
Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love
That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse
And presently 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 enforced my heart to smile!
My penance is to call Lucetta back
And ask remission for my folly past.
What ho! Lucetta!

60

Jul. What is't that you took up so gingerly? Luc. Nothing.

Jul. Why didst thou stoop, then?

Luc. To take a paper up that I let fall. ful. And is that paper nothing?

Luc. Nothing concerning me.

71

Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns. Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns, Unless it have a false interpreter.

Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme.

Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune. Give me a note: your ladyship can set.

81

Ful. As little by such toys as may be possible. Best sing it to the tune of 'Light o' love."

Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune. Jul. Heavy! belike it hath some burden then?

Luc. Ay, and melodious were it, would you sing it.

No, madam; it is too sharp.
Jul. You, minion, are too saucy.
Luc. Nay, now you are too flat

And mar the concord with too harsh a descant:
There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.
Ful. The mean is drown'd with your unruly

bass.

Luc. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.
Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble

me.

100

Here is a coil with protestation! [Tears the letter.
Go get you gone, and let the papers lie:
You would be fingering them, to anger me.
Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be
best pleased

To be so anger'd with another letter.

[Exit.

Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same!

O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!
Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey
And kill the bees that yield it with your stings!
I'll kiss each several paper for amends.
Look, here is writ 'kind Julia.' Unkind Julia!
As in revenge of thy ingratitude,

I throw thy name against the bruising stones,
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.
And here is writ 'love-wounded Proteus.'
Poor wounded name! my bosom as a bed
Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly

heal'd;

121

And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
But twice or thrice was' Proteus' written down.
Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away
Till I have found each letter in the letter,
Except mine own name : that some whirlwind bear
Unto a ragged fearful-hanging rock
And throw it thence into the raging sea!
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,
'Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia:' that I'll tear away.
And yet I will not, sith so prettily

He couples it to his complaining names.
Thus will I fold them one upon another:
Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you

Luc. What, shall these papers lie like telltales here?

Jul. If you respect them, best to take them up. Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down:

Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold. ful. I see you have a month's mind to them. Luc. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see;

I see things too, although you judge I wink. Jul. Come, come; will't please you go? 140 [Exeunt.

SCENE III. The same.

ANTONIO'S house.

Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO.

Ant. Tell me, Punthino, what sad talk was that Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pan. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. Ant. Why, what of him?

Pan.
He wonder'd that your lordship
Would suffer him to spend his youth at home,
While other men, of slender reputation,

Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:
Some to the wars, to try their fortune there;
Some to discover islands far away;
Some to the studious universities.
For any or for all these exercises

ΙΟ

He said that Proteus your son was meet,
And did request me to importune you
To let him spend his time no more at home,
Which would be great impeachment to his age,
In having known no travel in his youth.
Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me
to that

Whereon this month I have been hammering.
I have consider'd well his loss of time
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being tried and tutor❜d in the world:
Experience is by industry achieved
And perfected by the swift course of time.
Then tell me, whither were I best to send him?
Pan. I think your lordship is not ignorant
How his companion, youthful Valentine,
Attends the emperor in his royal court.

Ant. I know it well.

20

Pan. 'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither:

There shall he practise tilts and tournaments, 30 Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen, And be in eye of every exercise

Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.

Ant. I like thy counsel; well hast thou advised:

And that thou mayst perceive how well I like it
The execution of it shall make known.
Even with the speediest expedition

I will dispatch him to the emperor's court.
Pan. To-morrow, may it please you, Don
Alphonso

With other gentlemen of good esteem
Are journeying to salute the emperor
And to commend their service to his will.

40

Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go:

And, in good time! now will we break with him.

Pro. There is no news, my lord, but that he writes

How happily he lives, how well beloved
And daily graced by the emperor;
Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.
Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish?
Pro. As one relying on your lordship's will 61
And not depending on his friendly wish.

Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish.
Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed;
For what I will, I will, and there an end.
I am resolved that thou shalt spend some time
With Valentinus in the emperor's court:
What maintenance he from his friends receives,
Like exhibition thou shalt have from me.
To-morrow be in readiness to go:
Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.

70

Pro. My lord, cannot be so soon provided:

Please you, deliberate a day or two.

Ant. Look, what thou want'st shall be sent after thee:

No more of stay! to-morrow thou must go.
Come on, Panthino: you shall be employ'd
To hasten on his expedition.

[Exeunt Ant. and Pan. Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire for fear of burning,

80

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!

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. 10
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.
Why, how know you that I am in love?
Speed.Marry, by these special marks: first,

you have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreathe your arms, like a malecontent; to relish a lovesong, like a robin-redbreast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a schoolboy 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 robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laughed, 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 hardly think you my master, Val. Are all these things perceived in me? Speed. They are all perceived without ye. 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 urinal, 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 observed that? even she, I

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 esteemest thou me? I account of her beauty.

Speed. You never saw her since she was deformed.

Val. How long hath she been deformed? 70 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 eyes had the lights they were wont to have when you chid at Sir Proteus for going ungartered!

80

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:

Speed. [Aside] O, give ye good even! here's a million of manners.

Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand.

Speed. [Aside] 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 duty to your ladyship.

Sil. I thank you, gentle servant: 'tis very clerkly 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. Speed. [Aside] And yet you will; and yet another 'yet.'

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.

130

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. Val. Please you, I'll write your ladyship 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. [Exit. 140
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 hath taught her suitor,

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 delivered, and there an end.

Val. I would it were no worse. Speed. I'll warrant you, 'tis as well: 170 For often have you 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.

Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake.

[Giving a ring. Pro. Why, then, we'll make exchange; here, take you this.

Ful. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss. Pro. Here is my hand for my true constancy; And when that hour o'erslips me in the day Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake, The next ensuing hour some foul mischance Torment me for my love's forgetfulness! My father stays my coming; answer not; The tide is now: nay, not thy tide of tears; That tide will stay me longer than I should. Julia, farewell! [Exit Fulia. What, gone without a word?

SCENE III. The same. A street.

Enter LAUNCE, leading a dog.

Launce. 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. I think Crab my dog be the sourest-natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear: he is a stone, a very pebble stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have wept to have seen 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: O, 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'll lose the tide, if you tarry any longer.

Launce. 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?

Launce. 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 losing thy service,-Why dost thou stop my mouth?

51 Launce. For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue. Pan. Where should I lose my tongue? Launce. In thy tale.

Pan.

In thy tail!

Val. Of my mistress, then.

Val. I know him as myself; for from our infancy

We have conversed and spent our hours together :
And though myself have been an idle truant,
Omitting the sweet benefit of time

To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection,
Yet hath Sir Proteus, for that's his name,
Made use and fair advantage of his days;

Sil. Servant, you are sad.

Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so. Thu. Seem you that you are not? Val. Haply I do.

Thu. So do counterfeits.

Val. So do you.

Thu. What seem I that I am not?
Val. Wise.

Thu. What instance of the contrary?
Val. Your folly.

Thu. And how quote you my folly?
Val. I quote it in your jerkin.

Thu. My jerkin is a doublet.

Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly. Thu. How?

IO

20

Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio! do you change colour?

Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of chameleon.

Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood than live in your air.

Val. You have said, sir.

30

Thu. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time. Val. I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin.

Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off.

Val. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver. Sil. Who is that, servant?

Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire. Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks, and spends what he borrows kindly in your company.

40

Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt.

quer

Val. I know it well, sir; you have an excheof words, and, I think, no other treasure to give your followers, for it appears, by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words.

Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more: here comes my father.

His head unmellow'd, but his judgement ripe; 70
And, in a word, for far behind his worth
Comes all the praises that I now bestow,

He is complete in feature and in mind
With all good grace to grace a gentleman.
Duke. Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this
good,

He is as worthy for an empress' love

As meet to be an emperor's counsellor.
Well, sir, this gentleman is come to me,
With commendation from great potentates;

And here he means to spend his time awhile: 80
I think 'tis no unwelcome news to you.

Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he.

Duke. Welcome him then according to his. worth.

Silvia, I speak to you, and you, sir Thurio;
For Valentine, I need not cite him to it:
I will send him hither to you presently.
Val. This is the gentleman I told your lady-
ship

[Exit.

Had come along with me, but that his mistress
Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks.
Sil. Belike that now she hath enfranchised
them

Upon some other pawn for fealty.

go

Val. Nay, sure, I think she holds them prisoners still.

Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind,

How could he see his way to seek out you?
Val. Why, lady, Love hath twenty pair of eyes.
Thu. They say that Love hath not an eye

at all.

Val. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself: Upon a homely object Love can wink.

Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman.

Enter PROTEUS.

100

[Exit THURIO. Val. Welcome, dear Proteus! Mistress, I beseech you, Confirm his welcome with some special favour. Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,

If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from. Val. Mistress, it is: sweet lady, entertain him