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Fie, fie! how wayward is this foolish love,

Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune. That like a testy babe will scratch the nurse, Give me a note : your ladyship can set. And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod.

Jul. As little by such toys as may be possible : How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,

Best sing it to the tune of ** Light o' love." When willingly I would have had her here:

Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune. How angerly I taught my brow to frown,

Jul. Heavy? belike, it hath some burden then. When inward joy enforc'd my heart to smile. Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you My penance is to call Lucetta back,

sing it. And ask remission for my folly past.

Jul. And why not you? What ho! Lucetta!


I cannot reach so high.

Jul. Let's see your song.–How now, minion! Re-enter LUCETTA.

Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out: Luc.

What would your ladyship? And yet, methinks, I do not like this tune. Jul. Is it near dinner-time ?

Jui. You do not? Luc.

I would it were ;


No, madam; it is too sharp. That you might kill your stomach on your meat, Jul. You, minion, are to saucy. And not upon your maid.


Nay, now you are too flat, Jul. What is't that you took up so gingerly? And mar the concord with too harsh a descant : Luc. Nothing

There wanteth but a mean to fill your song. Jul. Why didst thou stoop then ?

Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base. Luc.

To take a paper up

Luc. Indeed I bid the base for Proteus. That I let fall.

Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me. Jul.

And is that paper nothing ? Here is a coil with protestation !-. Luc. Nothing concerning me.

[Tears the letter. Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns. Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie:

Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns, You would be fingering them to anger me. Unless it have a false interpreter.

Luc. She makes it strange, but she would be Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in best pleas'd rhyme.

To be so anger'd with another letter. (Eril.


Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the And here is writ- love-wounded Proteus." same!

Poor wounded name! my bosom, as a bed, O hateful hands! to tear such loving words: Shall lodge thee, till thy wound be throughly heal'd: Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey, And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss. And kill the bees that yield it with your stings ! But twice, or thrice, was Proteus written down : I'll kiss each several paper for amends.

Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away, Look, here is writ—« kind Julia ;"—unkind Julia! Till I have found each letter in the letter, As in revenge of thy ingratitude,

Except mine own name; that some whirlwind bear I throw thy name against the bruising stores, Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock, Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.

And throw it thence into the raging sea.

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




SCENE III.-The Same. A Room in ANTONIO's

Enter Antonio, and Pantuixo.
Anl. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that,
Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister?

Pant. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son.
Ant. Why, what of him?

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 ises,
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,
lo having known no travel in his youth.

Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that Whereon this month I have been bammering. 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 achiev'd, And perfected by the swift course of time. Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him?

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.

Ani. I like thy counsel: well hast thou advis'd ; 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 dispatch him to the emperor's court.
Pant. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Al-

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 himn.

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. 0! that our fathers would applaud our loves, To seal our happiness with their consents ! () heavenly Julia! Ant. How now! what letter are you reading

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

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 resolvid, 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.

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 employ'd
To hasten on his expedition.

[Exeunt Antonio and Panthino. Pro. Thus have I shunu'd the fire for fear of

burning, 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. 0! 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.

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. (Excunt.


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SCENE 1.–Milan. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Speed. Sir, I know that well enough.

Val. What dost thou know?

Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) wellSpeed. Sir, your glove.

favour'd. Val.

Not mine ; my gloves are on. Val. I mean, that her beauty is exquisite, but Speed. Why then this may be yours, for this is her favour infinite. but one.

Speed. That's because the one is painted, and the Val. Ha ! let me see: ay, give it me, it's mine. other out of all count. Sweet ornament, that decks a thing divine !

Val. How painted ? and how out of count? Ah Silvia ! Silvia!

Speed. Marry, sir, so painted to make her fair, Speed. Madam Silvia! madam Silvia !

that no man 'counts of her beauty. Val. How now, sirrab ?

Val. How esteem'st thou me? I account of her Speed. She is not within hearing, sir.

beauty. Val. Why, sir, who bade you call her ?

Speed. You never saw her since she was deSpeed. Your worship, sir; or else I mistook. form'd. Val. Well, you'll still be too forward.

Val. How long hath she been deform’d? Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too Speed. Ever since you loved her. slow.

Val. I have loved her ever since I saw her, and Val. Go to, sir. Tell me, do you know madam still I see her beautiful. Silvia ?

Speed. If you love her, you cannot see her. Speed. She that your worship loves ?

Val. Why? Val. Why, how know you that I am in love ? Speed. Because love is blind. O! that you had

Speed. Marry, by these special marks. First, you mine eyes; or your own eyes had the lights they have learn’d, like sir Proteus, to wreath your arms, were wont to have, when you chid at sir Proteus like a mal-content; to relish a love-song, like a for going ungartered ! robin-redbreast; to walk alone, like one that had Val. What should I see then ? the pestilence; to sigh, like a schoolboy that had Speed. Your own present folly, and her passing lost his A B C; to weep, like a young wench that deformity; for he, being in love, could not see to had buried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes garter his hose ; and you, being in love, cannot see diet; to watch, like one that fears robbing ; to speak to put on your hose. puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, Val. Belike, boy, then you are in love ; for last when you laugh’d, to crow like a cock; when you morning you could not see to wipe my shoes. walk’d, to walk like one of the lions; when you Speed. True, sir ; I was in love with my bed. I fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you thank you, you swinged me for my love, which look'd sadly, it was for want of money; and now makes me the bolder to chide you for yours. you are metamorphosed with a misti that, when Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her. I look on you, I can hardly think you my master. Speed. I would you were set, so your affection

Val. Are all these things perceived in me? would cease.
Speed. They are all perceived without ye. Val. Last night she enjoin'd me to write some
Val. Without me? they cannot.

lines to one she loves. Speed. Without you ? nay, that's certain ; for, Speed. And have you ? without you were so simple, none else would : but l'al. I have. you are so without these follies, that these follies Speed. Are they not lamely writ? are within you, and shine through you like the Val. No, boy, but as well as I can do them.-water in an urinal, that not an eye that sees you, Peace! here she comes. but is a physician to comment on your malady. Val. But, tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia ?

Enter Silvia. Speed. She, that you gaze on so, as she sits at Speed. O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet! supper?

Now will he interpret to her. Val. Hast thou observed that? even she I mean. Val. Madam and mistress, a thousand good morSpeed. Why, sir, I know her not.

Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, Speed. O! 'give ye good even : here's a million and yet know'st her not?

of manners. Speed. Is she not hard-favour’d, sir?

Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thouVal. Not so fair, boy, as well-favour'd.



Speed. He should give her interest, and she gives And yet take this again ;—and yet I thank you, it him.

Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more. Val. As you enjoin'd me, I have writ your letter Speed. And yet you will; and yet, another yet. Unto the secret nameless friend of yours ;

Val. What means your ladyship? do you not Which I was much unwilling to proceed in,

like it? But for my duty to your ladyship.

Sil. Yes, yes: the lines are very quaintly writ, Sil. I thank you, gentle servant. 'Tis very clerkly But since unwillingly, take them again. done.

Nay, take them.
Val. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off ; Val. Madam, they are for you.
For, being ignorant to whom it goes,

Sil. Ay, ay; you writ them, sir, at my request, I writ at random, very doubtfully.

But I will none of them: they are for you. Si. Perchance you think too much of so much I would have had them writ more movingly. pains ?

Val. Please you, I'll write your ladyship another. Val. No, madam : so it stead you, I will write, Sil. And, when it's writ, for my sake read it over; Please you command, a thousand times as much. And, if it please you, so; if not, why, so. And yet,

Val. If it please me, madam ; what then? Sil. A pretty period. Well, I guess the sequel : Sil. Why, if it please you, take it for your labour : And yet I will not name it ;—and yet I care not ; And so good-morrow, servant.



Speed. O jest ! unseen, inscrutable, invisible,
As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a

My master sues to her, and she hath taught her

He being her pupil, to become her tutor.
O excellent device! was there ever heard a better,
That my master, being scribe, to himself should

write the letter ?
Val. How now, sir! what, are you reasoning
with yourself!

Speed. Nay, I was rhyming: 'tis you that have the reason.

Val. To do what?
Speed. To be a spokesman from madam Silvia.
Val. To whom?

Speed. To yourself. Why, she wooes you by a figure.

Val. What figure ?
Speed. By a letter, I should say.
Val. Why, she hath not writ to me?

Speed. What need she, when she hath made you write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest?

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 deliver'd, and there an end.

Val. I would it were no worse !

I'll warrant you, 'tis as well : For often have you writ to her, and she, in modesty,

Nan, our maid: I am the dog ;-no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog.-0! 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 PANTANO. Pant. Launce, away, away, aboard : thy master is shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? why weep'st 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.

Pant. What's the unkindest tide ?
Launce. Why, he that's tied here; Crab, my dog.

Pant. 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, Jose thy service; and, in losing thy service,–Why dost thou stop my mouth ?

Launce. For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue.
Pant. Where should I lose my tongue ?
Launce. In thy tale.
Pant. In thy tail ?

Launce. Lose the tied, 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 sighis.

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

Launce. Sir, call me what thou dar'st.
Pant. Wilt thou go?
Launce. Well, I will go.


Scene IV.-Milan. A Room in the Duke's Palace.

** Or else for want of idle time, could not again re

ply; “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.

Val. I have dined.

Speed. Ay, but hearken, sir : though the cameleon love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourish'd by my victuals, and would fain have meat. O! be not like your mistress : be moved, be moved.


SCENE II.–Verona, A Room in Julia's House.

Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia.
Jul. I must, where is no remedy.
Pro. When possibly I can, I will return.

Jul. If you turn not, you will return the sooner. Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake.

(Giving a ring. Pro. Why then, we'll make exchange : here,

take you this. Jul. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss.

Pro. Here is my hand for my true constancy; And when that hour o'er-slips 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.

[Exit Julia.
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 Paxthino.
Pant. Sir Proteus, you are stay'd for.

Go; I come, I come.Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb.


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 eourt. 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 cruelhearted 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 statt is my sister; for, look you, she is as white as a lily, and as small as a wand : this hat is

Enter VALENTINE, Silvia Thurio, and SPEED.
Sil. Servant.-
Val. Mistress.
Speed. Master, sir Thurio frowns on you.
Val. Ay, boy, it's for love.
Speed. Not of you.
Val. Of my mistress, then.
Speed. 'Twere good you knock'd him.
Sil. Servant, you are sad.
Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so.
Thu. Seem you that you are not ?
Val. Haply, I do.
T'hu. So do counterfeits.
Val. So do you.
Thu. What seem I that I am not ?
l'al. 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 ?

Sil. What, angry, sir Thurio ? do you change colour ?

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