Val. No more, unless the next Word that thou speak'st
Have fome malignant Power upon my Life:
If fo, I pray thee breathe it in mine Ear,
As ending Anthem of my endless Dolour.

Pro. Ceafe to lament for that thou canst not help,
And ftudy Help for that which thou lament'ft.
Time is the Nurse and Breeder of all Good:
Here if thou ftay, thou canst not fee thy Love;
Befides, thy staying will abridge thy Life.
Hope is a Lover's Staff, walk hence with that,
And manage it against defpairing Thoughts.
Thy Letters may be here, tho' thou art hence,
Which, being writ to me, fhall be deliver'd
Even in the milk-white Bofom of thy Love.
The time now ferves not to expoftulate;
Come, I'll convey thee through the City-gate,
And, e'er I part with thee, confer at large
Of all that may concern thy Love-affairs:
As thou lov'ft Silvia, tho' not for thy felf,
Regard thy Danger, and along with me.

Val. I pray thee Launce, and if thou feeft my Boy, Bid him make hafte, and meet me at the North-Gate. Pro. Go Sirrah, find him out: Come Valentine. Val. O my dear Silvia! hapless Valentine! [Exeunt. Laun. I am but a Fool, look you, and yet I have the Wit to think my Mafter is a kind of a Knave: But that's all one, if he be but one Knave. He lives not now that knows me to be in love, yet I am in love; but a Teem of Horse shall not pluck that from me, nor who 'tis I love, and yet 'tis a Woman; but what Woman I will not tell my felf; and yet 'tis a Milk-maid; yet 'tis not a Maid, for fhe hath had Goffips; yet 'tis a Maid, for she is her Master's Maid, and ferves for Wages: She hath more Qualities than a Water-Spaniel, which is much in a bare Chriftian. Here is theCate-log [Pulling out a Paper] of her Conditions; Imprimis, She can fetch and carry; why a Horfe can do no more, nay a Horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore is the better than a Jade. Item, the can milk; look you, a fweet Virtue in a Maid with clean Hands.

Enter

Enter Speed.

Speed. How now Signior Launce? What News with your Mastership?

Laun. With my Mastership? Why, it is at Sea.

Speed. Well, your old Vice ftill; miftake the Word: What News then in your Paper?

Laun. The blackeft News that ever thou heard'ft.

Speed. Why Man, how black?

Laun. Why, as black as Ink.
Speed. Let me read them.

Laun. Fie on thee, Jolthead, thou canst not read.
Speed. Thou lieft, I can.

Laun. I will try thee; tell me this, who begot thee?
Speed. Marry, the Son of my Grand-father.

Laun. O illiterate Loiterer, it was the Son of thy
Grand-mother; this proves that thou canft not read.
Speed. Come Fool, come, try me in thy Paper.
Laun. There, and S. Nicholas be thy Speed.
Speed. Imprimis, fhe can milk.

Laun. Ay, that she can.

Speed. Item, fhe brews good Ale.

Laun. And therefore comes the Proverb, Blessing of your

Heart, you brew good Ale.

Speed. Item, the can fowe.

Laun. That's as much as to fay, Can she so?

Speed. Item, he can knit.

Laun. What need a Man care for a Stock with a Wench, When she can knit him a Stock?

Speed. Item, fhe can wash and scour.

Laun. A fpecial Virtue, for then the need not to be wash'd and fcour'd.

Speed. Item, fhe can spin.

Laun. Then may I fet the World on Wheels, when the can spin for her living.

Speed. Item, the hath many nameless Virtues.

Laun. That's as much as to fay Baftard Virtues, that indeed know not their Fathers, and therefore have no Names. Speed. Here follow her Vices.

Laun. Clofe at the Heels of her Virtues.

Speed. Item, he is not to be kift fafting, in refpect of her Breath.

Laun. Well, that Fault may be mended with a Breakfast: Read on.

Speed. Item, the hath a fweet Mouth.

Laun. That makes amends for her four Breath.

Speed. Item, the doth talk in, her Sleep.

Laun. It's no matter for that, fo fhe fleep not in her Talk.
Speed. Item, fhe is flow in Words.

Laun. Oh Villain! that fet down among her Vices.!
To be flow in Words is a Woman's only Virtue:
I pray thee out with't, and place it for her chief Virtue.
Speed. Item, he is proud.

Laun. Out with that too:

It was Eve's Legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her.
Speed. Item, the hath no Teeth.

Laun. I care not for that neither, because I love Crufts.

Speed. Item, fhe is curst.

Laun. Well, the best is the hath no Teeth to bite.

Speed. Item, he will often praife her Liquor.

Laun. If her Liquor be good, the hall; if the will not I will, for good things should be praised.

Speed. Item, fhe is too liberal.

Laun. Of her Tongue he cannot, for that's writ down fhe is flow of; of her Purfe fhe fhall not, for that I'll keep fhut; now of another thing the may, and that cannot Ï help. Well, proceed,

Speed. Item, fhe hath more Hairs than Wit,, and more Faults than Hairs, and more Wealth than Faults.

Laun. Stop there; I'll have her; he was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that Article. Rehearse that once

more.

Speed. Item, the hath more Hair than Wit.

Laun. 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 lefs. What's next? Speed. And more Faults than Hairs.

Laun. That's monftrous: Oh that that were out,

Speed. And more Wealth, than Faults.

Laun. Why that Word makes the Faults gracious:

Well, I'll have her; and if it be a Match, as nothing is impoffible

Speed.

Speed. What then?

Laun. Why then will I tell thee, that thy Master stays for thee at the North-Gate.

Speed. For me?

Laun. For thee? ay; who art thou? He hath ftaid for a better Man than thee.

Speed. And muft I go to him?

Laun. Thou muft run to him; for thou hast staid fo long that going will fcarce ferve the turn.

Speed. Why didft not tell me fooner? Pox on your LoveLetters.

Laun. Now will he be fwing'd for reading my Letter: An unmannerly Slave, that will thruft himfelf into Secrets. I'll after, to rejoice in the Boy's Correction.

SCENE II.

Enter Duke and Thurio.

[Exeunt.

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

Thu. Since his Exile fhe hath defpis'd me most,
Forfworn my Company, and rail'd at me,
That I am defperate of obtaining her.

Duke. This weak Imprefs of Love, is as a Figure
Trenched in Ice, which with an Hour's Heat
Diffolves to Water, and doth lofe his Form.
A little time will melt her frozen Thoughts,
And worthless Valentine fhall be forgot.

Enter Protheus.

How now, Sir Protheus; is your Countryman,
According to our Proclamation, gone?
Pro. Gone, my good Lord.

Duke. My Daughter takes his going heavily.
Pro. A little time, my Lord, will kill that Grief.
Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not fo.
Protheus, the good Conceit I hold of thee,
For thou haft fhown fome fign of good Defert,
Makes me the better to confer with thee.

Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your Grace,
Let me not live to look upon your Grace.

Duke. Thou know'ft how willingly I would effect
H 3

The

The Match between Sir Thurio and my Daughter.
Pro. I do, my Lord,

Duke. And alfo I do think thou art not ignorant
How the opposes her against my Will.

Pro. She did, my Lord, when Valentine was here,
Duke. Ay, and perverfely the perfeveres fo.
What might we do to make the Girl forget
The Love of Valentine, and love Sir Thurio?
Pro. The best way is to flander Valentine
With Falfhood, Cowardife, and poor Defcent:
Three things that Women highly hold in Hate.
Duke, Ay, but she'll think that it is spoken in Hate.
Pro. Ay, if his Enemy deliver it:

Therefore it muft with Circumftance be spoken
By one whom the esteems as his Friend.

Duke. Then you must undertake to flander him. Pro. And that, my Lord, I fhall be loath to do; 'Tis an ill Office for a Gentleman,

Efpecially against his very Friend.

Duke. Where your good Word cannot advantage him, Your Slander never can endamage him;

Therefore the Office is indifferent,

Being intreated to it by your Friend.

Pro. You have prevail'd, my Lord; If I can do it,
By ought that I can fpeak in his Difpraise,
She fhall not long continue Love to him.
But fay this wean her Love from Valentine,
It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio.

Thu. Therefore as you unwind her Love from him,
Left it should ravel, and be good to none,

You must provide to bottom it on me :

Which must be done, by praifing me as much

As you in Worth difpraife Sir Valentine.

Duke. And, Protheus, we dare truft you in this kind, Because we know, on Valentine's Report,

You are already Love's firm Votary,

And cannot foon revolt and change your Mind.
Upon this Warrant fhall you have Access,
Where you with Silvia may confer at large:
For fhe is lumpifh, heavy, melancholy,
And, for your Friend's fake, will be glad of

you;

Where