this my father; a vengeance on't, there 'tis: now, Sir, this staff is my fifter; for, look y you, fhe is as white as a lilly, and as fmall as a wand; this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog: no, the dog is himfelf, and I am the dog: (2) oh, the dog is me, and I am myfelf; ay, fo, fo; now come I to my father; father, your bleffing; now fhould not the fhoe speak a word for weeping; now fhould I kifs my father; well, he weeps on.; now come I to my mother; oh that she could fpeak now!-(3) like a wood woman! well, I kifs her; why there 'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down: now come I to my fifter: mark the moan fhe makes: now the dog all this while fheds not a tear, nor speaks a.word; but fee, how I lay the duft with my tears.

Enter Panthion.

Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy mafter is fhipp'd, and thou art to poft after with oars: what's the matter? why weep't thou, man? away, afs, you. will lofe the tide if you tarry any longer.

Laun. It is no matter if the ty'd were loft, for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever any man ty’d.

Pant. What's the unkindest tide?

Laun. Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my dog. Pant. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lofe the flood; and in lofing the flood, lofe thy voyage; and in lofing thy voyage, lofe thy mafter; and in lofing thy master, lofe thy fervice; and in lofing thy fervice, why doft thou ftop my mouth?

(2) I am the dog, &c.] This paffage is much confufed, and of confufion the prefent reading makes no end. Sir J. Hanmer reads, I am the dog, no, the dog is himself and I am me, the dog is the dog, and I am myself. This certainly is more reasonable, but I know not how much reason the Authour intended to beftow on Launce's foliloquy.

(3) Like a wood-woman! The first folios agree in wouldwoman; for which, because it was a mystery to Mr. Pope, he has unmeaningly fubftituted ould woman. But it must be writ, or at least understood, wood-woman; i. e. crazy, frantick with grief; or diftracted, from any other cause. The word is very frequently used in. Chaucer; and sometimes writ, wood, fometimes, wide. THEOBALD. Laun.

Laun. For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue.
Pant. Where should I lofe my tongue?
Laun. In thy tale.

Pant. In thy tail?

Laun. Lofe the flood, and the voyage, and the mafter, and the fervice, and 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 fighs.

Pant. Come, come away, man ; I was fent to call

thee.

Laun. Sir, call me what thou dar'ft..

Pant. Wilt thou go?

Laun. Well, I will go.

SCENE IV.

Changes to Milan.

An Apartment in the Duke's Palace:

Enter Valentine, Silvia, Thurio, and Speed..

Sil: Servant,

Val. Miftrefs?

Speed. Mafter, Sir Thurio frowns on you.

Val Ay, boy, it's for love.

Speed. Not of you.

Val. Of my mistress then.

Speed. "Twere good you knockt him..

Sil. Servant, you are fad.

Val: Indeed, madam, I seem so.

Thu: Seem you that you are not?

Val. Haply, I do.

Thu. So do counterfeits.

Val. So do you..

Thu. What feem I, that I am not?
Val. Wife.

Thu. What inftance of the contrary?
Val. Your folly.

Thus

Thu. And how quote you my folly?
Val. I quote it in your jerkin.
Thu. My jerkin is a doublet.

Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly.
Thu. How?

Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio? do you change colour?

Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of Ca meleon.

Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood, than live in your air.

Val. You have faid, Sir.

Thu. Ay, Sir, and done too, for this time.

Val. I know it well, Sir; you always end, ere you begin.

Sil. A fine voily of words, gentlemen, and quickly

fhot off.

Val. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver.
Sil. Who is that, fervant?

Val. Yourfelf, fweet lady, for you gave the fire: Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyfhip's looks, and fpends, what he borrows, kindly in your company.

Thu. Sir, if you fpend word for word with me, I fhall make your wit bankrupt.

Val. I know it well, Sir; you have an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other treafure 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.

SCENE V.

Enter the Duke.

Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard befet. Sir Valentine, your father's in good health;

What fay you to a letter from

Of much good news?

your

friends

Val. My lord, I will be thankful
To any happy meffenger from thence.

Duke.

Duke. Know you Don Anthonio, your countryman?
Val. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman
To be of worth and worthy eftimation;

And, not without defert, fo well reputed. (4)
Duke. Hath he not a fon?

Val. Ay, my good lord, a fon that well deferves
The honour and regard of fuch a father.

Duke. You know him well?

Val. I knew him, as myself; for, from our infancy
We have converft, and spent our hours together:
And tho' myself have been an idle truant,
Omitting the fweet benefit of time,

To cloath mine age with angel-like perfection;
Yet hath Sir Protheus, 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 compleat in feature and in mind,
With all good grace to grace a gentleman.
Duke. Befhrew me, Sir, but if he makes this good,
He is as worthy for an emprefs' love.
As meet to be an Emperor's counsellor.
Well, Sir, this gentleman is come to me,
With commendations from great potentates;
And here he means to spend his time a while.
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 fpeak to you; and you, Sir Thurio:
For Valentine, I need not cite him to it:
I'll fend 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 lockt in her crystal looks.

Sil. Belike, that now the hath enfranchis'd them
Upon fome other pawn for fealty.

Val. Nay, fure, I think, fhe holds them pris'ners ftill.

(4) Not without defert,] And not dignified with fo much reputation without proportionate merit.

Sil.

Sil. Nay, then he should be blind: and, being blind, How could he fee his way to seek out you?

Val. Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. Thu. They fay, that love hath not an eye at all. Val. To fee fuch lovers, Thurio, as yourself: Upon a homely object love can wink.

SCENE VI

Enter Protheus.

Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the gentle

man.

Val. Welcome, dear Protheus: miftrefs, I beseech you,

Confirm his welcome with fome fpecial favour.

Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,
If this be he, you oft have wifh'd to hear from.
Val. Mistress, it is: Sweet lady, entertain him
To be my fellow-fervant to your ladyship.

Sil. Too low a mistress for fo high a fervant.
Pro. Not fo, fweet lady; but too mean a fervant,
To have a look of fuch a worthy mistress.
Val. Leave off discourse of disability:
Sweet lady, entertain him for your fervant.
Pro. My duty will I boaft of, nothing elfe.
Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed:
Servant, you're welcome to a worthlefs miftrefs.
Pro. I'll die on him that fays fo, but yourself.
Sit. That you are welcome?

Pro, No. That you are worthlefs. (5)

Enter Servant.

Ser. Madam, my lord your father would fpeak with

you. (6)

Sil.

(5) No. That you are worthless.] I have inferted the particle 229, to fill up the measure.

(6) Thur. Madam, my lord your father-] This fpeech in all

the