Jul. Will you be gone?

Luc.

That you may ruminate. [Exit.
Jul. And yet, I would I had o'erlook'd the letter.
It were a shame to call her back again,
And pray her to a fault for which I chid her.
What 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 enforc'd my heart to smile!
My penance is, to call Lucetta back,
And ask permission for my folly past:-
What ho! Lucetta!

Re-enter LUCETTA.

Luc. What would your ladyship?
Jul. Is it near dinner time?

Luc. I would it were:

That you might kill your stomach3 on your meat,

And not upon your maid.

Jul. What is't you took up

So gingerly?

Luc. Nothing.

Jul. Why didst thou stoop then?

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

Luc. Nothing concerning me.

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 your's hath writ to you in rhyme.

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

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

Laic. 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.

Jul. And why not you?

Luc. I cannot reach so high.

Jul. Let's see your song:-How now, minion?
Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out:
And yet, methinks, I do not like this tune.
Jul. You do not?

Luc. 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:4
There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.
Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base.
Luc. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.

1 Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.
Here is a coil with protestation!

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 pleas'd

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.
And 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.
Look, here is writ-love-wounded Proteus ;-
Poor wounded name! my bosom, as a bed,
Shall lodge thee, till thy wound be thoroughly heal'd;
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 rugged, fearful, hanging rock,

And throw it thence into the raging sea!
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,-
Poor forlorn Porteus, 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 will.
Re-enter LUCetta.

Luc. Madam,

Dinner is ready, and your father stays.
Jul. Well, let us go.

Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales
-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.
Jul. 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?

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The same. A Room in Antonio'
House. Enter ANTONIO and PANTHING.
Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad1o talk was that,
Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister?
Pant. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son.
Ant. Why, what of him?

Pant.

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 seck 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,
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

[Tears the letter. 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 try'd and tutor'd in the world:
Experience is by industry achiev'd,
And perfected by the swift course of time:
Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him?

To be so anger'd with another letter.

[Exit. Jul. Nay, would I were as anger'd with the same! O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!

1 First folio, ye.

--2 Stomach, for passion or obstinacy.

7 Since.

8" for catching cold," i. e. lest they should catch cold, anciently a common form of expression. See Horne Tooke's explanation of this word in the first volume of "The Diversions of Purley."

3 Set is here used equivocally; in the preceding speech in the sense in which it is used by musicians, and in the present line in a quite different sense. To 9 Month's mind, a longing, probably from "the set by in old language signifies, to make account of, to longing of women, which takes place (or commences, estimate. See the first Book of Samuel, xviii. 30. at least) in the first month of pregnancy." This is the Descant signified formerly what we now call vari-ingenious conjecture of John Croft, Esq. of York. The ations. It has been well defined to be musical para- commentators have endeavoured to refer this passage to phrase. The mean is the tenor in music. the month's minds, or periodical celebrations in memory of dead persons, usual in times of popery ;-but the phrase in this place can have no relation to them. 10 i. c. grave or serious.

5 To bid the base means, to run fast, challenging another to pursue at the rustic game called Base, or Prisonbase. The allusion is somewhat obscure, but it appears to mean here, "to challenge to an encounter." i. e. bustle, stir.

11 Impeachment in this passage means reproach or imputation.

Pant. I think, your lordship is not ignorant, How his companion, youthful Valentine, Attends the emperor in his royal court.

Ant. I know it well.

Pant. "Twere good, I think, your lordship sent
him thither:

There shall he practise tilts and tournaments,
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 may'st perceive how well I like it,
The execution of it shall make known;
Even with the speediest expedition

I will despatch him to the emperor's court.
Pant. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Al-
phonso,

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

Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go:
And, in good time,-now will we break with him.'
Enter PROTEUS.

Pro. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life!
Here is her hand, the agent of her heart:
Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn:
O, that our fathers would applaud our loves,
To seal our happiness with their consents!
O heavenly Julia!

Ant. How now? what letter are you reading
there?

Pro. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or

two

Of commendations sent from Valentine,
Deliver'd by a friend that came from him.

Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news.
Pro. There is no news, my lord; but that he

writes

How happily he lives, how well belov'd
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,
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 resolv'd, that thou shalt spend some time
With Valentinus in the emperor's court;
What maintenance he from his friends receives,
Like exhibition3 thou shalt have from me.
To-morrow be in readiness to go:
Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.

Pro. My lord, I 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 employed
To hasten on his expedition.

[Exeunt ANT. and PANT.

Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire, for fear of

burning;

And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd:
I fear'd to shew 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 resembleth4

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. [Exeunt.

1 i. e. break the matter to him.

2 i. e. wonder not.

ACT II.

Speed. Sir, your glove.

Val. Not mine; my gloves are on.

Speed. Why then this may be yours, for this is

but one."

Val. Ha! let me

mine:

see: ay, give it me, it's

Ah Silvia! Silvia !
Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine!

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.
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 wreath your
arms like a male-content: to relish a love-song,
like a robin-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 robbing
to speak puling, like a beggar at Hollowmas.
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 din-
ner; 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 you.
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 mean.
Speed. Why, sir, I know her not.

Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet know'st her not?

Speed. Is she not hard-favour'd, sir?

Val. Not so fair, boy, as well favour'd.
Speed. Sir, I know that well enough.
Val. What dost thou know?

Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) wellfavour'd.

Val. I mean, that her 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? Speed. Marry, sir, so painted to make her fair, that no man counts of her beauty.

4 Resembleth is pronounced as if written resembeleth, which makes it a quadrisyllable.

5 On and one were anciently pronounced alike, and frequently written so.

6 To take diet is to be under a regimen for a disease. 7 The feast of All-hallows, or All Saints, at which time the poor in Staffordshire go from parish to parish singing small, as Bailey's Dictionary explains puling,) a souling, as they call it; i. e. begging and puling, (or for soul cakes, and singing what they call the souler's song. These terms point out the condition of this benevo

souls of the giver's departed friends 8 Exhibition is allowance of money; it is still used lence, which was, that the beggars should pray for the pin the Universities for a stipend.

Val. No, boy, but as well as I can do them:- you perceive her earnest ? Peace, here she comes.

3 Motion signified, in Shakspeare's time, a puppetshow Speed means to say, what a fine puppet-show shall we have now? Here is the principal puppet to whom my master will be the interpreter. The show. 2 Set, for seated, in opposition to stand in the prece-man was then frequently called the interpreter. ding line. It appears, however, to be used metaphorical- 4 i. e. like a scholar. ly in the sense applied to the sun when it sinks below

Julia, farewell.-What gone without a word!
Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak;
For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.
Enter PANTHINO.

Pant. Sir Proteus, you are staid for.
Pro. Go; I come, I come :-

Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The same. A Street. Enter
LAUNCE, leading a Dog.

Laun. 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, (0, 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 will lose the tide, if you tarry any longer.

Laun. It is no matter if the ty'd were lost; for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever any man ty'd. Pan. What's the unkindest tide?

Laun. Why, he that's ty'd 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?

Laun. For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue.
Pan. Where should I lose my tongue ?
Laun. In thy tale.

Pan. In thy tail?

Laun. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service: And the tide !-Why, man, if the river were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the wind were down, I could drive the boat with my sighs.

Pan. Come, come away, man; I was sent to call thee.

Laun. Sir, call me what thou darest.
Pan. Wilt thou go?

Laun. Well, I will go.

[Exeunt.

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?

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

I

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

Val. I know it well, sir: you have an exchequer of 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.

Enter DUKE.

Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard besot
Sir Valentine, your father's in good health:
What say you to a letter from your friends
Of much good news?

Val. My lord, I will be thankful
To any happy messenger from thence.

Duke. Know you Don Antonio, your countryman?
To be of worth, and worthy estimation,
Val. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman
And not without desert so well reputed.
Duke. Hath he not a son?

Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well de

serves

The honour and regard of such a father.
Duke. You know him well?

Val. I knew him as myself; for from our infancy
We have convers'd, 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;
His years but young, but his experience old;
His head unmellow'd, but his judgment ripe;
And, in a word, (for far behind his worth
Come all the praises that I now bestow,)
He is complete in feature, and in mind,

5 To quote is to mark, to observe, the old pronunciation was evidently cote from the French original.

6 Feature in the poet's age was often used for form or person in general. Thus Baret: "The feature and facion, or the proportion and figure of the whole body. Conformatio quædam et figura totius oris et cor poris." So in Ant. and Cleop. Act. ii. Sc. 5. "Report the feature of Octavian."

Thus also Spenser:

Which the fair feature of her limbs did hide.'