Or as one nail by strength drives out another, Is it mine eye, or Valentinus' praise, Her true perfection, or my false transgression, If not, to compass her I'll use my skill. [Exit. SCENE V-The same. A street. Enter Speed and Launce. 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. 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, Speed. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistakest 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 an 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? Speed. At thy service. [Exeunt. 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 ; To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn ; Love bade me swear, and love bids me forswear: Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken; But there I leave to love, where I should love. If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; And Silvia, witness beaven, that made her fair! 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. I cannot now prove constant to myself, Now presently I'll give her father notice [Exit. SCENE VII.-Verona. A room in Julia's house. En ter Julia and Lucetta. Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me! Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long. Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return. food! Pity the dearth, that I have pined in, By longing for that food so long a time. Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire, But qualify the fire's extreme rage, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. Jul. The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns; He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones, He overtaketh in his pilgrimage; And so by many winding nooks he strays, Then let me go, and hinder not my course: Luc. But in what habit will you go along? As may beseem some well-reputed page. Luc. Why then your ladyship must cut your hair. Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in silken strings, With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots: To be fantastic, may become a youth of greater time than I shall shew to be. Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your breeches? Jul. That fits as well, as-"tell me, good my lord, "What compass will you wear your farthingale ?" Why, even that fashion thou best lik'st, Lucetta. Luc. You must needs have them with a cod-piece, Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd. F N A T 0 |