The Plays of William Shakspeare, Accurately Printed from the Text of the Corrected Copies, Left by the Late George Steevens, and Edmond Malone, with a Sketch of His Life, and a Glossary. New Ed. Rev

Speed. Without you? nay, that's certain, for, without you were so simple, none else would: but you are so without these follies, that these follies are within you, and shine through you like the water in an urinal; that not an eye, that sees you, 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 observed that? even she I mean. Speed. Why, sir, I know her not.

Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet knowest her not?

Speed. Is she not hard favoured, 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.

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 eyes had the lights they were wont to have, wherf you chid at sir Proteus for going ungartered!

Val. What should I see then?

Speed. O, 'give you good even! here's a million of manners. [Aside. Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand.

Speed. He should give her interest, and she gives it him.

Val. As you enjoin'd me, I have writ your letter, Unto the secret nameless friend of yours; Which I was much unwilling to proceed in, But for my duty to your ladyship.

Sul. 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,

I writ at random, very doubtfully.

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.

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: I 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, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple !

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

He being her pupil, to become her tutor.

O excellent device! was there ever heard a better? That my master, being scribe, to himself should write the letter?

Val. How now, sir? what are you reasoning with yourself?

Speed. Nay, I was rhyming; 'tis you that have

the reason.

Val. To do what?

Speed. To be a spokesman from madam Silvia. Val. To whom?

Speed. To yourself: why, she wooes you by a figure.

Val. What figure?

Speed. By a letter, I should say.

Val. Why, she hath not writ to me?

Speed. What needs she, when she hath made you write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest? Val. No, believe me.

Speed. No believing you indeed, sir: But did you perceive her earnest?

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.

For any, or for all these exercises,
He said, that Proteus, your son, was meet :
And did request me, to impórtune you,
To let him spend his time no more at home,
Which would be great impeachment to his age,
In having known no travel in his youth.

Ant. Nor need'st thou much impórtune me to that
Whereon this month I have been hammering.
I have consider'd well his loss of time;
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being try'd, and tutor'd in the world:
Experience is by industry atchiev'd,
And perfected by the swift course of time:
Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him?
Pan. I think, your lordship is not ignorant,
How his companion, youthful Valentine,
Attends the emperor in his royal court.

Ant. I know it well.

Pro. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or

two

Of commendation sent from Valentine,
Deliver'd by a friend that came from him.

Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news.
Pro. There is no news, my lord; but that he writes
How happily he lives, how well-belov'd,
And daily graced by the emperor ;

Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune. Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish? Pro. As one relying on your lordship's will, And not depending on his friendly wish.

Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish:
Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed;
For what I will, I will, and there an end.

I am resolv'd, that thou shalt spend some time
With Valentinus in the emperor's court;
What maintenance he from his friends receives,
Like exhibition shalt thou have from me.
To-morrow be in readiness to go:
Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.

Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided;
Please you, deliberate a day or two.

Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent after thee:

Speed. She is not within hearing, sir.
Val. Why, sir, who bade you call her?
Speed. Your worship, sir; or else I mistook.
Val. Well, you'll still be too forward.
Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too
slow.

No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.. Come on, Panthino; you shall be employ'd To hasten on his expedition.

ACT II.

[Exeunt ANT. and PAN.

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 shew 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 shews all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away!

Val. Go to, sir; tell me, do you know madam Silvia?

Speed. She that your worship loves?

Val. Why, how know you that I am in love? Speed. Marry, by these special marks: First, you have learned, like sir Proteus, to wreath your arms like a male-content; to relish a love-song, like a Robin-red-breast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a school-boy that had lost his A. B. C; to weep, like a young wench that had buried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one that fears robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to waik like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you looked sadly, it was for want of money : and now you are metamorphosed with a mistress,

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 observed that? even she I mean. Speed. Why, sir, I know her not.

Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet knowest her not?

Speed. Is she not hard favoured, 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.

Fal. 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.

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

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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.

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: I 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, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a

Speed. And that letter hath she deliver'd, and shoe is my father; -no, to, this left shoe is my

there an end.

mother; nay, that cannot be so neither: yes, it is so, it is so; it hath the worser sole; This shoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father; A vengence on't! there 'tis: now, sir, this staff is my sister; for, look you, she is as white as a lily, and as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog: -no the dog is himself, and I am the dog,-O, the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so. Now come I to my father; Father, your blessing; now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping; now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on:-now come I to my mother, (O, that she could speak now!) like a wood woman; -well, I kiss her;-why, there 'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down; now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes: now the dog all this while sheds not a tear, nor speaks a word; but see how I lay the dust with my tears.

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;
Or fearing else some messenger, that might her mind

discover,
Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her

lover.

All this I speak in print, for in print I found it.
Why muse you, sir? 'tis dinner time.

Val. I have dined.

Speed. Ay, but hearken, sir; though the cameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat; O, be not like your mistress; be moved, be moved. [Exeunt. SCENE II. - Verona. A Room in Julia's House.

Enter PROTEUS and JULIA.

Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia.
Jul. I must, where is no remedy.
Pro. When possibly I can, I will return.
Jul. If you turn not, you will return the sooner :
Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake.

[Giving a ring. Pro. Why then we'll make exchange; here, take you this.

Jul. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss.
Pro. Here is my hand for my true constancy;
And when that hour o'er-slips me in the day,
Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake,
The next ensuing hour some foul mischance
Torment me for my love's forgetfulness!
My father stays my coming; answer not;
The tide is now: nay, not thy tide of tears;
That tide will stay me longer than I should:
[Exit JULIA.
Julia, farewell. What! gone without a word?
Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak ;
For truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace
it.

SCENE III. - The same. A Street.

Enter LAUNCE, leading a Dog.

Laun. Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with sir Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think, Crab my dog be the sourest-natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear; he is a stone, a very pebble-stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner of it: This shoe is my father; - no, this lef

Laun. Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my dog. Pan. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt 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.

Pan. In thy tail?

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, 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?
Laun. Well, I will go.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. - Milan. An Apartment in the
Duke's Palace.
Enter VALENTINE, SILVIA, THURIO, and SPEED.
Sil. Servant
Val. Mistress?

Speed. Master, 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 knocked him.
Sil. Servant, you are sad.

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 seem I, that I am not?
Val. Wise.

Thu. What instance of the contrary?

Val. Your folly.
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 cameleon.

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

Val. You have said, sir.

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

Val. I know it well, sir; you always end cre you 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.

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.

Sul. 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.
Enter Servant.

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

Sil. I'll wait upon his pleasure.

[Exit Servant.

Come, sir Thurio,

Duke. You know him well?

Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well deserves Go with me:- Once more, new servant, welcome: The honour and regard of such a father. 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?

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 country-
man?

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. 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,

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. [Erit 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.

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 judgement ripe;
And, in a word, (for far behind his worth
Come all the praises that I now bestow,)
He complete in feature, and in mind,
With all good grace to grace a gentleman.

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:
I think, 'tis no unwelcome news to you.

Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he.

Duke. Beshrew me, sir, but, if he make this good, I have done penance for contemning love;
He is as worthy for an empress' love,

Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me
With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,

With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs;
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,

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The Plays of William Shakspeare, Accurately Printed from the Text of the ...