Come not within the measure1 of my wrath:
Do not name Silvia thine; if once again,
Milan shall not behold thee.

Take but possession of her with a touch;—
dare thee but to breathe upon my love.-
Thu. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I;
I hold him but a fool, that will endanger
His body for a girl that loves him not:
I claim her not, and therefore she is thine.

Duke. The more degenerate and base art thou,
To make such means for her as thou hast done,3
And leave her, on such slight conditions.
Now, by the honour of my ancestry,
I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine,
And think thee worthy of an empress' love.
Know then, I here forget all former griefs,5
Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again.-
Plead a new states in thy unrivall'd merit,
To which I thus subscribe,—sir Valentine,
Thou art a gentleman, and well deriv'd;

"He shall not hold thu". Take thou thy Silvia; for thou hast deserv'd her.

Val. I thank your grace: the gift hath made me happy. I now beseech you, for your daughter's sake, To grant one boon that I shall ask of you.

Duke. I grant it, for thine own, whate'er it be.

Val. These banish'd men, that I have kept withal, Are men endued with worthy qualities. Forgive them what they have committed here, And let them be recall'd from their exíle: They are reformed, civil, full of good,

And fit for great employment, worthy lord.

Duke. Thou hast prevail'd: I pardon them, and thee; Dispose of them, as thou know'st their deserts. Come, let us go; we will include all jars conclude With triumphs, mirth, and rare"solemnity.

Val. And, as we walk along, I dare be bold
With our discourse to make your grace to smile:
What think you of this page, my lord? stripling. ms
Duke. I think the boy hath grace in him; he blushes.
Val. I warrant you, my lord; more grace than boy.
Duke. What mean you by that saying, Valentine?
Val. Please you, I'll tell you as we pass along,

That you will wonder what hath fortuned.-
Come, Proteus; 'tis your penance, but to hear
The story of your loves discovered:

"That done, our day of marriage shall be yours;

One feast, one house, one mutual happiness. [Exeunt.

And for to shut up all in friendly lovefany

Steevens.

8 With triumphs,] Triumphs, in this and many other passages of Shakspeare, signify Masques and Revels, &c. So, in King Henry VI, P. III:

"With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shows." Steevens. 9 In this play there is a strange mixture of knowledge and ignorance, of care and neligence. The versification is often excellent, the allusions are learned and just; but the author conveys his heroes by sea from one inland town to another in the same country; he places the Emperor at Milan, and sends his young men to attend him, but never mentions him more; he makes

picture; and, if we may credit the old copies, he has, by miscaking places, left his scenery inextricable. The reason of all this confusion seems to be, that he took his story from a novel, which he sometimes followed, and sometimes forsook, sometimes remembered, and sometimes forgot.

That this play is rightly attributed to Shakspeare, I have little doubt. If it be taken from him, to whom shall it be given? This question may be asked of all the disputed plays, except Titus Andronicus; and it will be found more credible, that Shakspeare might sometimes sink below his highest flights, than that any other should rise up to his lowest. Johnson.

Johnson's general remarks on this play are just, except that part in which he arraigns the conduct of the poet, for making Proteus say, that he had only seen the picture of Silvia, when it appears that he had had a personal interview with her. This, however, is not a blunder of Shakspeare's, but a mistake of Johnson's, who considers the passage alluded to in a more literal sense than the author intended it. Sir Proteus, it is true, had seen Silvia for a few moments; but though he could form from thence some idea of her person, he was still unacquainted with her temper, manners, and the qualities of her mind. He therefore considers himself as having seen her picture only. The thought is just, and elegantly expressed. So, in The Scornful Lady, the elder Loveless says to her:

" I was mad once, when I loved pictures;
"For what are shape and colours else, but pictures?”