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Here is a coil? with protestation! [Tears the letter.
[Exit. Jul. Nay, would I were as angered with the same ! O hateful hands, to tear such loving words! 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 healed; 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 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.
Jul. Well, let us go.
1 Bustle, stir.
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's
Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO.
Pant. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son.
He wondered, that your lordship
Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that Whereon this month I have been hammering. I have considered well his loss of time; And how he cannot be a perfect man, Not being tried and tutored in the world : Experience is by industry achieved, And perfected by the swift course of time: Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him?
1 Reproach or imputation.
Pant. I think, your lordship is not ignorant,
Ant. I know it well.
Ant. I like thy counsel: well hast thou advised :
Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go: And, in good time, -now will we break with him.
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, Delivered 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 beloved
li. e. break the matter to him.
And daily graced by the emperor;
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 resolved, that thou shalt spend some time With Valentinus in the emperor's court; What maintenance he from his friends receives, Like exhibition 2 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;
[Exeunt Ant. and PANT. Pro. Thus have I shunned the fire, for fear of
burning; And drenched me in the sea, where I am drowned : I feared 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;
li. e. wonder not.
2 Exhibition is allowance of money; it is still used in the universities for a stipend.
Pro. Why, this it is! my heart accords thereto; And yet a thousand times it answers, no. [Exeunt.
SCENE I. Milan. A Room in the Duke's Palace.
Enter VALENTINE and SPEED. Speed. Sir, your glove. Val. Not mine; my gloves are on. Speed. Why then this may be yours, for this is
. but one.
Speed. Madam Silvia! madam Silvia !
slow. Val. Go to, sir; tell me, do you know madam
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 robinred-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
1 On and one were anciently pronounced alike, and frequently writ