Come on, Panthino; you shall be employ'd
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 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.
O, 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.

Pant. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Al- SCENE I.-Milan. An apartment in the Duke's

Pro. There is no news, my lord; but that he have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreath your arms

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 observ'd 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 favoured.
Speed. Sir, I know that well enough.
Val. What dost thou know?

Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) well favoured.

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.

Val. How esteemest thou me? I account of her beauty.

Speed. You never saw her since she was deformed.

Val. How long hath she been deformed?
Speed. Ever since you loved her.

Val. I have loved her ever since I saw her, and still I see her beautiful.

But for my duty to your ladyship.

Sil. I thank you, gentle servant: 'tis very clerkly' done.

Val. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off; For, being ignorant to whom it goes, writ at random, very doubtfully.

I

Sil. Perchance you think too much of so much pains?

Val. No, madam; so it stead you, I will write,
Please you command, a thousand times as much :
And yet,-

Sil. A pretty period!. Well, I guess the sequel;
And yet I will not name it :-and yet I care not ;-
And yet take this again;-and yet I thank you;
Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more.
Speed. And yet you will; and yet another yet.

[Aside.

Val. What means your ladyship? do you not
like it?

Sil. Yes, yes; the lines are very quaintly writ:
But since unwillingly, take them again;
Nay, take them.

I

Val. Madam, they are for you.

Sil. Ay, ay; you writ them, sir, at my request: But I will none of them; they are for you: would have had them writ more movingly. Val. Please you, I'll write your ladyship another. Sil. And, when it's writ, for my sake read it over : And, if it please you, so; if not, why, so. Val. If it please me, madam! what then? Sil. Why, if it please you, take it for your labour: And so good morrow, servant. [Exit Silvia. Speed. O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, wont to have, when you chid at Sir Proteus for As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a going ungartered!

Speed. If you love her, you cannot see her.
Val. Why?

Speed. Because love is blind. O, that you had mine eyes; or your own had the lights they were

Val. What should I see then?

Speed. Your own present folly, and her passing

steeple ! My master sues to her; and she hath taught her suitor,

deformity: for he, being in love, could not see to He being her pupil, to become her tutor. garter his hose; and you, being in love, cannot see O excellent device! was there ever heard a better? to put on your hose. That my master, being scribe, to himself should

Val. Belike, boy, then you are in love; for last morning you could not see to wipe my shoes.

Speed. True, sir; I was in love with my bed: I thank you, you swinged me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you for yours.

Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her. Speed. I would you were set; so, your affection would cease.

Val. Last night she enjoined me to write some lines to one she loves.

write the letter?

Speed. No believing you indeed, sir; but did

Speed. O excellent motion !? O exceeding pup-you perceive her earnest? pet! now will he interpret to her.

Val. Madam and mistress, a thousand good

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 delivered, and
there an end."

Val. I would, it were no worse.
Speed. I'll warrant you, 'tis as well:

For often you have writ to her; and she, in

modesty,

Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply,

(4) There's the conclusion

Or fearing else some messenger, that might her so. Now come I to my father; Father, your bless mind discover, ing; now should not the shoe speak a word for Herself hath taught her love himself to write weeping; now should I kiss my father; well, he unto her lover.

weeps on:-now come I to my mother, (Ó, that she could speak now!) like a wood woman;-well, I

All this I speak in print; for in print I found it.-kiss her;-why there 'tis ; here's my mother's breath Why muse you, sir? 'tis dinner-time.

up and down: now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes: now the dog all this while sheds Speed. Ay, but hearken, sir: though the came-not a tear, nor speaks a word; but see how I lay leon, Love, can feed on the air, I am one that am the dust with my tears. nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat: O, be not like your mistress; be moved, be moved.

Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy master SCENE II.-Verona. A room in Julia's house. 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 thoul't 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.

Laun. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service? 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?

Sil. Belike, that now she hath enfranchis'd them

Val. I know it well, sir; you always end ere you Upon some other pawn for fealty. 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?

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

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

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.

The honour and regard of such a father.

Duke. You know him well?

Val. I knew him as myself; for from our in-
fancy

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 awhile:
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:
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.
(1) Ill betide. (2) Incite.

Val. Nay, sure, I think, she holds them priso

ners 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 be-
seech 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.
Enter Servant.

Ser. Madam, my lord your father would speak
with you.

Sil. I'll wait upon his pleasure. [Exit Servant.
Go with me:-Once more, new servant, welcome:
Come, Sir Thurio,
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 mc
With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,
For, in revenge of my contempt of love,
With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs;
Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes,
And made them watchers of mine own heart's sor

row.

O, gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord;
And hath so humbled me, as, I confess,
There is no wo 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 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,
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?
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 everlasting.

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?

Speed. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to Milan.

Laun. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth; for I am not welcome. I reckon this always-that a man is never undone, till he be hanged; nor never welcome to a place, till some certain shot be paid, and the hostess say, welcome.

Speed. Come on, you mad-cap, I'll to the alehouse with you presently; where for one shot of five pence, thou shalt have five thousand welcomes. But, sirrah, how did thy master part with madam Julia.

Laun. Marry, after they closed in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest.

Speed. But shall she marry him?

Laun. No.

Speed. How then? shall he marry her?
Laun. No, neither.

Speed. What, are they broken?

Laun. No, they are both as whole as a fish. Speed. Why then, how stands the matter with them?

Laun. Marry, thus; when it stands well with him, it stands well with her.

Speed. What an ass art thou! I understand thee not.

Laun. What a block art thou, that, thou canst not! My staff understands me.

Speed. What thou say'st?

Laun. Ay, and what I do too: look thee, I'll but lean, and my staff understands me. Speed. It stands under thee, indeed.

Laun. Why, stand under and understand is all one. ;

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 mine eye, 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;
And that I love him not, as I was wont:
O! but I love his lady too, too much;
And that's the reason I love him so little.
How shall I dote on her with more advice,1
That thus without advice begin to love her!

(1) On further knowledge.

Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match? Laun. Ask my dog: if he say, ay, it will; if he say, no, it will; if he shake his tail, and say nothing, it will.

Speed. The conclusion is then, that it will. Laun. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me, but by a parable.

Speed. Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how say'st thou, that my master is become a notable lover?

Laun. I never knew him otherwise.
Speed. Than how?

Laun. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him

to be.