Enter DUKE.

Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.
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?" Val. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman To be of worth, and worthy estimation,

And not without desert so well reputed.

Duke. Hath he not a son?

Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well deserves, 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,
With all good grace, to grace a gentleman.
Duke. Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this 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:

7 Know you Don Antonio, your countryman?] The word Don should be omitted; as, besides the injury it does to the metre, the characters are Italians, not Spaniards. Had the measure admitted it, Shakspeare would have written Signor. And yet, after making this remark, I noticed Don Alphonso in a preceding scene. But for all that, the remark may be just. Ritson.

8

not without desert-] And not dignified with so much reputation without proportionate merit. Johnson.

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 'cite him to it: 9

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.

Enter PROTEUS.

Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman. Val. Welcome, dear Proteus! Mistress, I beseech you, Confirm his welcome with some special favour.

Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,
If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from.
Val. Mistress, it is: sweet lady, entertain him

To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship.

Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a servant.
Pro. Not so, sweet lady; but too mean a servant
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.1

9 I need not 'cite him to it:] i. e. incite him to it. Malone. 1 No; that you are worthless.] I have inserted the particle no, to fill up the measure. Johnson.

Perhaps the particle supplied is unnecessary. Worthless was, I believe, used as a trisyllable. See Mr. Tyrwhitt's note, page 160. Malone.

Enter Servant.

Ser. Madam, my lord your father2 would speak with

you.

Sil. I'll wait upon his pleasure.

[Exit Ser.

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 SIL. THU. and SPEED.

Val. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came? Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much com

mended.

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 imperious3 thoughts have punish'd me, With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,

With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs;

Is worthless a trisyllable, in the preceding speech of Silvia? Is there any instance of the licence recommended, respecting the adjective worthless, to be found in Shakspeare, or any other writer?

Steevens.

2 Ser. Madam, my lord your father-] This speech, in all the editions, is assigned, improperly, to Thurio; but he has been all along upon the stage, and could not know, that the duke wanted his daughter. Besides, the first line and half of Silvia's answer, is evidently addressed to two persons. A servant, therefore, must come in, and deliver the message; and then, Silvia goes out with Thurio. Theobald.

3 Whose high imperious-] For whose I read those. I have contemned love and am punished. Those high thoughts, by which I exalted myself above the human passions or frailties, have brought upon me fasts and groans. Johnson.

I believe the old copy is right. Imperious is an epithet very frequently applied to love, by Shakspeare and his contemporaries. So, in The Famous Historie of George Lord Faukonbridge, 4to. 1616, p. 15: "Such an imperious god is love, and so commanding." A few lines lower, Valentine observes, that—“ love's a mighty lord." Malone.

For, in revenge of my contempt of love,

Love hath chac'd sleep from my enthralled eyes,

And made them watchers of mine own heart's sorrow.

O, gentle Proteus! love 's a mighty lord;

And hath so humbled me, as, I confess,

There is no woe to his correction, 4

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 is 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,5

Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth.

Pro. Except my mistress.

Val.

Sweet, except not any;

Except thou wilt except against my love.
Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine own?

4 no woe to his correction,] No misery that can be compared to the punishment inflicted by love. Herbert called for the prayers of the liturgy a little before his death, saying, None to them, none to them. Johnson.

The same idiom occurs in an old ballad quoted in Cupid's Whirligig, 1616:

5

"There is no comfort in the world

-a principality,] The first or principal of women. So the old writers use state. "She is a lady, a great state." Latymer. "This look is called in states warlie, in others otherwise." Sir T. More. Johnson,

There is a similar sense of this word in St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans, viii. 38:-" nor angels nor principalities."

Mr. M. Mason thus judiciously paraphrases the sentiment of Valentine. "If you will not acknowledge her as divine, let her at least be considered as an angel of the first order, superior to every thing on earth." Steevens.

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, And, of so great a favour growing proud, Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower," 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.7

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,

6

summer-swelling flower,] I once thought, that our poet had written summer-smelling; but the epithet, which stands in the text, I have since met with in the translation of Lucan, by Sir Arthur Gorges, 1614, B. VIII. p. 354:

"no Roman chieftaine should

"Come near to Nyle's Pelusian mould,
"But shun that summer-swelling shore."

The original is, "-ripasque æstate tumentes," 1. 829. May likewise renders it summer-swelled banks. The summer-swelling flower is the flower which swells in summer, till it expands itself into bloom. Steevens.

7 She is alone.] She stands by herself. There is none to be compared to her. Johnson.