THE TWO GENTLEMEN O F VERONA A C. T. I. SCENE, An open Place in Verona. Enter Valentine and Protheus. VALENTINE, EASE to perfuade, my loving Protheus; Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits; Wer't not, affection chains thy tender days To the fweet glances of thy honour'd love, I rather would intreat thy company, To fee the wonders of the world abroad Than (living dully fluggardiz'd at home) Wear out thy youth with fhapeless idleness. But fince thou lov'ft, love ftill, and thrive therein. Ev'n as I would, when I to love begin Pro. Wilt thou be gone? fweet Valentine, adieu; Think on thy Protheus, when thou, haply, feeft Some Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel: When thou doft meet good hap; and in thy danger, Commend thy Grievance to my holy prayer; Val. And on a love-book pray for my fuccefs. 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. (1) Val. No, I will not; for it boots thee not. Pro. What? Val. To be in love, where fcorn is bought with groans ; Coy looks, with heart-fore fighs; one fading moment's mirth, With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights. Pro. So, by your circumftance, you call me fool. Methinks, fhould not be chronicled for wife. Val. And writers fay, as the most forward bud (1) nav, give me not the Boots.] A proverbial Expreflion, tho' now difus'd, fignifying, don't make a laughing Stock of me; don't play upon me. The French have a Phiafe, Bailler foin en Corne; which Cotgrave thus interprets, To give one the Boots; to fell him a Bargain, Is eaten by the canker, ere it blow; Once more, adieu: my father at the road And I likewife will vifit thee with mine. Speed. Sir Protheus, fave you; faw you my mafter? Pro. But now he parted hence, t'imbark for Milan. Speed. Twenty to one then he is shipp'd already, And I have play'd the sheep in lofing him. Pro. Indeed, a fheep doth very often stray, An if the fhepherd be awhile away. Speed. You conclude that my master is a shepherd then, and I a sheep? Pro. I do. Speed. Why then my horns are his horns, whether I wake or fleep. Pro. A filly answer, and fitting well a fheep. Speed. This proves me ftill a fheep. Pro. True; and thy mafter a fhepherd. VOL. I. H Speed. Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumftance. Pro. It fhall go hard, but I'll prove it by another. Speed. The fhepherd feeks the fheep, and not the sheep the fhepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks not me; therefore I am no fheep. Pro. The fheep for fodder follows the fhepherd, the fhepherd for the food follows not the fheep; thou for wages followeft thy mafter, thy mafter 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 her, a lac'd mutton (2), 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 best ftick her. Pro. Nay, in that you are a ftray (3), 'twere best pound you. Speed. Nay, Sir, lefs than a pound fhall ferve 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. (2) I, a loft Mutton, gave your Letter to her, a lac'd Mutton;] Launce calls himself a loft Mutton, because he had loft his Mafter, and because Protheus had been proving him a Sheep. But why does he call the Lady a lac'd Mutton? Your notable Wenchers are to this Day call'd Mutton-mongers: and confequently the Object of their Paffion muft, by the Metaphor, be the Mutton. And Cotgrave, in his English-French Dictionary, explains Lac'd Mutton, Une Garfe, putain, fille de Joye. And Mr. Motteux has render'd this Paffage of Rabelais, in the Prologue of his fourth Book, Cailles coiphées mignonnement chantans, in this manner; Coated Quails and laced Mutton waggiskly finging. So that lac'd Mutton has been a fort of Standard Phrafe for Girls of Pleasure. (3) Nay, in that you are aftray.] For the Reason Proteus gives, Dr. Thirlby advifes that We fhould read, a Stray, i. e. a ftray Sheep which continues Proteus's Banter upon Speed. Pro. Pro. But what faid fhe: did she nod? Pro. Nod-I? why, that's noddy. [Speed nods. Speed. You miftook, Sir: I faid, fhe did nod: And you afk me, if fhe did nod; and I faid, I. 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 shall 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 purfe. Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief: what faid fhe? Speed. Open your purse, that the money and the matter may be both at once 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'ft 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 fteel. Pro. What, faid the nothing? Speed. No, not so much as- -take this for thy pains: To teftify your bounty, I thank you, you have teftern'd me: In requital whereof, henceforth carry your letter yourfelf; and fo, Sir, I'll commend you to my mafter. 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 meffenger: I fear, my Julia would not deign my lines, H 2 [Exeunt feverally. SCENE |