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 thon, that thou canst

not?

My staff understands me.

Speed. What thou say'st?

I cannot now prove constant to myself,
Without some treachery used to Valentine :-
This night he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celestial Silvia's chamber-window;
Myself in counsel, his competitor:
Now presently I'll give her father notice
Of their disguising, and pretended flight;
Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentine;
But, Valentine being gone, I ll quickly cross,
By some sly trick, blunt Thurio's dull proceed-

Laun. Ay, and what I do too: look thee, I'll For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter: but lean, and my staff understands me. Speed. It stands under thee, indeed. Laun. Why stand under and understand is all one.

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. Thon 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.

Speed. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mis

takest me.

Laun. Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy master.

Speed. I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover.

Laun. Why, I tell thee, I care not though he burn himself in love. If thou wilt go with me to the alehouse, so; if not thou, art a Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian. Speed. Why?

Laun. Because thou hast not so much charity in thee, as to go to the ale with a Christian. Wilt thou go?

[Exeunt.

Speed. At thy service.
SCENE VI. The same. An apartment in the Palace.
Enter PROTEUS.

Pro. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn;
To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn; [oath,
And even that power, which gave me first my
To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn;
Provokes me to this threefold perjury.
Love bade me swear, and love bids me forswear:
O, sweet suggesting love, if thou hast sinn'd,
Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it.
At first I did adore a twinkling star,
But now I worship a celestial sun.
Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken;
And he wants wit, that wants resolved will
To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better.
Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad,
Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd
With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths.
I cannot leave to love, and yet I do;

But there I leave to love, where I should love.
Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose;
If I keep them, I needs must lose myself;
If I lose them, thus find I by their loss,
For Valentine, myself; For Julia, Silvia.
I to myself am dearer than a friend;
For love is still more precious in itself:
And Silvia, witness heaven, that made her fair!
Shews Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.
I will forget that Julia is alive,
Rememb'ring that my love to her is dead;
And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,
Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.

ing.

Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift,
As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift! [Exit.
SCENE VII. Verona. A room in Julia's House.
Enter JULIA and LUCETTA.

Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me!
And, e'en in kind love, I do conjure thee,-
Who art the table wherein all my thoughts
Are visibly character'd and engrav'd,—
To lesson me; and tell me some good mean,
How with my honour, I may undertake
A journey to my loving Proteus.

Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long.
Jul. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary
To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;
Much less shall she, that hath love's wings to fly;
And when the flight is made to one so dear,
Of such divine perfection, as Sir Proteus.

Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return.
Jul. O, know'st thou not, his looks are my
soul's food?

Pity the dearth that I have pined in,
By longing for that food so long a time.
Didst thou but know the inly touch of love,
Thou would'st as soon go kindle fire with snow,
As seek to quench the fire of love with words.

Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot
But qualify the fire's extreme rage, [fire;
Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
Jul. The more thou dam'st it up, the more it
burns;
The current, that with gentle murmur glides,
Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth

rage;

But, when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet musick with th' enamel'd stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;
And so by many winding nooks he strays,
With willing sport to the wild ocean.
Then let me go, and hinder not my course:
I'll be as patient as a gentle stream,

And make a pastime of each weary step,
Till the last step have brought me to my love;
And there I'll rest, as, after much turmoil,
A blessed soul doth in Elysium.

Luc. But in what habit will you go along?
Jul. Not like a woman; for I would prevent
The loose encounters of lascivious men:
Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds
As may beseem some well reputed page.
Luc. Why then your ladyship must cut your

hair.

Luc. You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam.

Jul. Ont, out, Lucetta; that will be ill favour'd.
Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not worth
a pin,

Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on.
Jul. Lucetta, as thou lovest me, let me have
What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly:
But tell me, wench, how will the world repute
For undertaking so unstaid a journey? me,
I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd.
Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and
go not.

Jul. Nay, that I will not.

Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go.
If Proteus like your journey, when you come,
No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone:
I fear me, he will scarce be pleas'd withal.

Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear:
A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
And instances of infinite of love,
Warrant me welcome to my Proteus.

Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men.
Jul. Base men, that use them to so base effect!
But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth:
His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles;
His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate;
His tears, pure messengers sent from his heart;
His heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth.
Luc. Pray, heaven, he prove so, when you
come to him!

Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that
wrong,

To hear a hard opinion of his truth;
Only deserve my love, by loving him;
And presently go with me to my chamber,
To take a note of what I stand in need of,
To furnish me upon my longing journey.
All that is mine I leave at thy dispose,
My goods, my lands, my reputation;
Only, in lieu thereof despatch me hence;
Come, answer not, but to it presently;
I am impatient of my tarriance.

Art Third.

SCENE I.

[Exeunt.

Milan. An Anti-room in the Duke's Palace.
Enter DUKE, THURIO, and PROteus.
Duk. Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray awhile;
We have some secrets to confer about.

[Exit THURIO. Now, tell me, Protens, what's your will with me? Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would discover,

Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest

care;

Which to requite, command me while I live.
This love of theirs myself have often seen,
Haply, when they have judged me fast asleep;
And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid
Sir Valentine her company, and my court:
But, fearing lest my jealous aim might err,
And so unworthily disgrace the man,
(A rashness that I ever yet have shunn'd),
I gave him gentle looks; thereby to find ́
That which thyself hast now disclos'd to me.
And, that thou may'st perceive my fear of this,
Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested,
I nightly lodge her in an upper tower,
The key whereof myself have ever kept;
And thence she cannot be convey'd away.
Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devised a

mean

How he her chamber-window will ascend,
And with a corded ladder fetch her down;
For which the youthful lover now is gone,
And this way comes he with it presently;
Where, if it please you, you may intercept him.
But, good my lord, do it so cunningly,
That my discovery be not aimed at;
For love of you, not hate unto my friend,
Hath made me publisher of this pretence.
Duke Upon mine honour, he shall never know,
That I had any light from thee of this.
Pro. Adieu, my lord; Sir Valentine is coming.
[Exit.

Enter VALENTINE.

Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? Val. Please it your grace there is a messenger That stays to bear my letters to my friends, And I am going to deliver them.

Duke. Be they of much import?

Val. The tenor of them doth but signify
My health, and happy being at your court.
Duke. Nay, then no matter; stay with me a
while;

I am to break with thee of some affairs,
That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret.
'Tis not unknown to thee, that I have sought
To match my friend, Sir Thurio, to my daughter.
Val. I know it well, my lord; and, sure, the
match

Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentle

man

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: The law of friendship bids me to conceal: And, may I say to thee, this pride of hers, But, when I call to mind your gracious favours Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her; Done to me, undeserving as I am, And, where I thought the remnant of mine age My duty pricks me on to utter that [me. Should have been cherish'd by her childlike Which else no worldly good should draw from duty, Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine, my friend, This night intends to steal away your daughter; Myself am one made privy to the plot. I know you have determined to bestow her On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates; And should she thus be stolen away from you, It would be much vexation to your age. Thus, for my duty's sake, I rather chose To cross my friend in his intended drift, Than, by concealing it, heap on your head A pack of sorrows, which would press you down, Being unprevented, to your timeless grave.

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.
Val. What would your grace have me to do
in 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),

Val. Ay, my good lord. Duke. Then let me see thy cloak; I'd get me one of such another length." Val. Why, any 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!

And here an engine fit for my proceeding?
I'll be so bold to break the seal for once. [reads.
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.

Pro. No, Valentine.

|horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore is Val. No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia!-she better than a jade. Ítem, She can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands.

Hath she forsworn me?

Pro. No, Valentine.

Val. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me!

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 came them,

Enter SPEED.

Speed. How now, signior Launce? what news with your mastership?

Laun. With my master's ship? why it is at sea. Speed. Well, your old vice still, mistake the word:

What news then in your paper?

Laun. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st.

Sp ed. Why, man, how black?
Laun. Why, as black as ink.
Speed. Let me read them.

Laun. Fie on thee, jolt-head; thou canst not read.

Speed. Thou liest, I can.

Laun. I will try thee: Tell me this; Who be-begot thee?

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.

Pro. Cease to lament for that thou canst not
help,

And study help for that which thou lament'st.
Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
Here if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love;
Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.
Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that,
And manage it against despairing thoughts.
Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence;|
Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver'd
Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.
The time now serves not to expostulate:
Come, I'll convey thee through the city gate;
And, ere I part with thee, confer at large
Of all that may concern thy love affairs:
As thou lov'st Silvia, though not for thyself,
Regard thy danger, and along with me."

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 1 have the wit to think, my master is a kind of a knave: but that's all one, if he be but one knave, He 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. She 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

Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather. Laun. O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy grandmother: this proves that thou canst not read.

Speed. Come, fool, come: try me in thy paper.
Laun. There: and Saint Nicholas be thy speed!
Speed. Imprimis, She can milk.

Laun. Ay, that she can.

Speed. Item, She brews good ale.

Laun. And therefore comes the proverb,

Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale.
Speed. Item, She can sew.

Laun. That's as much as to say, can che 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.
Laun. A special virtue; for then she need not
be washed and scoured.

Speed. Item, She can spin.

Laun. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living.

Speed. Item, Sh: hath many nameless virtues. Laun. That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have no means.

Speed. Here follow her vices.

Laun. Close at the heels of her virtues. Speed. Item, She is not to be kissed fasting, in respect of her breath.

Laun. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast: Read on.

Speed. Item, She hath a sweet mouth.

Laun. That makes amends for her sour breath.
Speed. Item, She doth talk in her sleep.

Laun. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk.

Speed. Item, She is slow in words.

Laun. O villain, that set this down among her vices! To be slow in words, is a woman's only virtue: I pray thee, out with't; and place it for her chief virtue.

Speed. Item, She is proud.

Laun. Out with that too; it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her.

Sp ed. Item, She hath no teeth.

Laun. I care not for that neither, because I love crusts.

Speed. Item, She is curst.

Laun. Well, the best is, she hath no teeth to bite.

Speed. Item, She will often praise her liquor. Laun. Ifher liquor be good,she shall: if she will not, I will; for good things should be praised.

Laun. Why, then will I tell thee that thy She shall not long continue love to him. master stays for thee at the north-gate.