With all good grace to grace a gentleman.

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 a while:
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 'cíte2 him to it:
I'll send him hither to you presently. [Exit Duke.
Val. This is the gentleman, I told your ladyship,
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 enfranchis'd them Upon some other pawn for fealty.

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.

To have a look of such a worthy mistress.

Val. Leave off discourse of disability :— Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant. Pro. My duty will I boast of, nothing else. Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed; Servant you are welcome to a worthless mistress. Pro. I'll die on him that says so, but yourself. Sil. That you are welcome? Pro.

No; that you are worthless.

Enter Servant. Ser. Madam, my lord your father would speak with you. Sil. I'll wait upon his pleasure. [Exit Servant. Come, Sir Thurio, Go with me :-Once more, new servant, welcome: I'll leave you to confer of home affairs; When you have done, we look to hear from you. Pro. We'll both attend upon your ladyship.

[Exeunt SILVIA, THURIO, and SPEED. Val. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you

came?

Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much commended.

Val. And how do yours?
Pro. I left them all in health.

Val. How does your lady? and how thrives your love?

Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you; I know you joy not in a love-discourse.

Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now: I have done penance for contemning love; Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me With bitter fasts, with penitential groans, With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs; For, in revenge of my contempt of love,

1 A petty mode of adjuration equivalent to ill betide

me.

2 'Cite, for incite.

sie imperial. Thus in Hamlet:

* Imperious Cesar dead and turn'd to clay "

row.

O, gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord;
And hath so humbled me, as, I confess,
There is no woe to his correction,
Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth!
Now, no discourse, except it be of love:
Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep,
Upon the very naked name of love.

Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye Was this the idol that you worship so?

Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint?
Pro. No; but she's an earthly paragon.
Val. Call her divine.

Pro. I will not flatter her.

Val. O, flatter me; for love delights in praises. Pro. When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills; And I must minister the like to you.

Val. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine, Yet let her be a principality,

Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth.
Pro. Except my mistress.

Val. Sweet, except not any,

Except thou wilt except against thy love.

Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine own?
Val. And I will help thee to prefer her too:
She shall be dignified with this high honour,
To bear my lady's train; lest the base earth
Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss,
Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower,
And, of so great a favour growing proud,
And make rough winter everlastingly.

Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this? Val. Pardon me, Proteus: all I can, is nothing To her, whose worth makes other worthies nothing; She is alone.

Pro. Then let her alone.

Val. Not for the world: why, man, she is mine own;

And I as rich in having such a jewel,
As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl,
The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
Forgive me, that I do not dream on thee,
Because thou seest me dote upon my love.
My foolish rival, that her father likes,
Only for his possessions are so huge,
Is gone with her along; and I must after,
For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy.
Pro. But she loves you?
Val.

Ay, and we are betroth'd; Nay, more, our marriage hour, With all the cunning manner of our flight, Determin'd of: how I must climb her window; The ladder made of cords: and all the means Plotted; and 'greed on, for my happiness. Good Proteus, go with me to my chamber, In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel

Pro. Go on before; I shall inquire you forth: I must unto the road," to disembark Some necessaries that I needs must use; And then I'll presently attend you. Val. Will you make haste?"

Pro. I will.

[Exit VAL.

Even as one heat another heat expels,
Or as one nail by strength drives out another,
So the remembrance of my former love
Is by a newer object quite forgotten.
Is it her mien, or Valentinus' praise,
Her true perfection, or my false transgression,
That makes me, reasonless, to reason thus ?
She's fair; and so is Julia, that I love ;-
That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd;
Which, like a waxen image, 'gainst a fire,
Bears no impression of the thing it was..
Methinks, my zeal to Valentine is cold;

4 No woe, no misery that can be compared to the punishment inflicted by love.

5 A principality is an angel of the first order 6 i. e. the haven where the ships lie at anclior.

7 Alluding to the figures made by witches as representatives of those they meant to destroy or torment, V. Macbeth, Act ii Sc. &

Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentleman Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter: Cannot your grace win her to fancy him?

Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, froward,

Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty;
Neither regarding that she is my child,
Nor fearing me as if I were her father:
And, may I say to thee, this pride of hers,
Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her;
And where' I thought the remnant of mine age
Should have been cherish'd by her childlike duty,
I now am full resolv'd to take a wife,

And turn her out to who will take her in:
Then let her beauty be her wedding-dower;
For me and my possessions she esteems not.

Then let me see thy cloak; I'll get me one of such another length. Val. Why, my cloak will serve the turn, my lord. Duke. How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak?I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.What letter is this same? What's here?-To Silvia !

[reads.

And here an engine fit for my proceeding?
I'll be so bold to break the seal for once.
My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly;
And slaves they are to me, that send them flying:
O, could their master come and go as lightly,
Himself would lodge where senseless they are lying.
My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them;
While I, their king, that thither them importune,
Do curse the grace that with such grace hath bless'd
them,

Because myself do want my servants' fortune:
I curse myself, for they are sent by me,

this?

Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan, here, Whom I affect; but she is nice, and coy, And nought esteems my aged eloquence: Now, therefore, would I have thee to my tutor, (For long agone I have forgot to court: Besides, the fashion of the time is chang'd;) How, and which way, I may bestow myself, To be regarded in her sun-bright eye. Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words; Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, More than quick words, do move a woman's mind. Duke. But she did scorn a present that I sent her. Val. A woman sometimes scorns what best con

tents her:

Send her another; never give her o'er;
For scorn at first makes after-love the more.
If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
But rather to beget more love in you:
If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone;
For why, the fools are mad, if left alone.
Take no repulse, whatever she doth say:
For, get you gone, she doth not mean, away:
Flatter, and praise, commend, extol their graces,
Though ne'er so black, say, they have angels' faces.
That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man,
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.
Duke. But she, I mean, is promis'd by her
friends

Unto a youthful gentleman of worth;
And kept severely from resort of men,
That no man hath access by day to her.

Val. Why then I would resort to her by night. Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock'd, and keys kept safe,

That no man hath recourse to her by night.
Val. What lets, but one may enter at her win-

dow?

that.

What's here?

Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee!
"Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.—
Why, Phaeton (for thou art Merop's son,)
Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car,
And with thy daring folly burn the world?
Wilt thou reach stars because they shine on thee?
Go, base intruder! over-weening slave!
And think, my patience, more than thy desert,
Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates;
Is privilege for thy departure hence:
Which, all too much, I have bestow'd on thee.
Thank me for this, more than for all the favours
But if thou linger in my territories
Longer than swiftest expedition

Will give thee time to leave our royal court,
By heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the love
I ever bore my daughter, or thyself.
I will not hear thy vain excuse,
gone,
But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence.
[Exit DUKE.

Be

Val. And why not death, rather than living tro

ment?

And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her,
To die, is to be banish'd from myself;

Is self from self; a deadly banishment!
What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?
Unless it be to think that she is by,
And feed upon the shadow of perfection,^
Except I be by Silvia in the night,
There is no music in the nightingale;
There is no day for me to look upon:
Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
She is my essence; and I leave to be,
Foster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive.
If I be not by her fair influence
Tarry I here, I but attend on death;
fly not death, to fly his deadly doom;
But, fly I hence, I fly away from life.

I

Pro. Valentine?

Val. No.

Pro. Who then? his spirit?

Val. Neither.

Pro. What then?

Val. Nothing.

Pro. No, Valentine.

Val. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me! What is your news?

Laun. Sir, there's a proclamation that you are vanish'd.

Pro. That thou art banished, O, that's the news: From hence, from Silvia, and from me, thy friend. Val. O, I have fed upon this woe already, And now excess of it will make me surfeit. Doth Silvia know that I am banished?

Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom, (Which, unrevers'd, stands in effectual force,) A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears: Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd; With them, upon her knees, her humble self; Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became

them,

As if but now they waxed pale for woe:
But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears,
Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire;
But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die.
Besides, her intercession chaf'd him so
When she for thy repeal was suppliant,
That to close prison he commanded her,
With many bitter threats of 'biding there.

Val. No more; unless the next word that thou speak'st,

Have some malignant pow'r upon my life:

If

So, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear,

As ending anthem of my endless dolour.i

Pro. Cease to lament for that thou can'st not

2 So in Hamlet:

"These to her excellent white bosom." To understand this mode of addressing letters, &c. it should be known that women anciently had a pocket in the forepart of their stays, in which they carried not only love letters and love tokens, but even their money, &c. In many parts of England rustic damsels still continue the practice. A very old lady informed Mr. Steevens, that when it was the fashion to wear very prominent stays it was the custom for stratagem or gallantry to drop its literary favours within the front of

them.

Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north gate Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine. Val. O my dear Silvia! hapless Valentine!

[Exeunt VALENTINE and PROTEUS. Laun. I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to think, my master is a kind of a knave: but that's all one, if he be but one knave. Ho lives not now, that knows me to be in love: yet I am in love; but a team 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 myself: and yet 'tis a milk-maid: yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips: yet 'tis a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages. hath more qualities than a water-spaniel,-which is much in a bare christian. Here is the cate-log [Pulling out a paper] of her condition. Imprimis, She can fetch and carry. Why, a horse can do no more; nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry ; therefore is she better than a jade. Item, She can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands.

Enter SPEED.

She

Laun. Ay, that she can.

Speed. Item, She brews good ale.

Laun. And therefore comes the proverb,-Bless ing of your heart, you brew good ale. Speed. Item, She can sew.

Laun. That's as much as to say, can she so? Speed. Item, She can knit.

Laun. What need a man care for a stock with

a wench, when she can knit him a stock." Speed. Item, She can wash and scour.

faire." Baret. The old copy reads condition, which was changed to conditions by Rowe.

6 It is undoubtedly true that the mother only knows the legitimacy of the child. Launce infers that if Speed could read, he must have read this well known obser vation.

7 St. Nicholas presided over scholars, who were therefore called St. Nicholas' clerks; either because the legend makes this saint to have been a bishop while yet a boy, or from his having restored three young scholars to life. By a quibble between Nicholas and Old Nick highwaymen are called Nicholas' clerks in Henry IV. part 1. The parish clerks of London finding that schotronage of this saint, conceived that clerks of any kind might have the same right, and accordingly took him as their patron, much in the same way as the woolcombers did St. Blaise, who was martyred with an instrument like a carding comb; the nailmakers St. Clou; and the booksellers St. John Port Latin

4 Bare, has two senses, mere and naked. Launce, quibbling on, uses it in both senses, and opposes the naked female to the water-spaniel covered with hairs of remarkable thickness.

"Condition, honest behaviour or demeanour in fiving, a custume or facion. Mos. Moris, facon de

8 i. e. stocking