Wilt thou afpire to guide the heavenly car, Thank me for this, more than for all the favours, Longer than fwifteft expedition Will give thee time to leave our royal court, Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excufe, But as thou lov'ft thy life, make speed from hence. SCENE III. [Exit. Val. AND why not death, rather than living tor ment? To die, is to be banish'd from myself: Enter Enter Protheus and Launce. Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out. Laun. So-ho! fo-ho! Pro. What feest thou? Laun. Him we go to find: There's not a hair on's head, but 'tis a Valentine. Pro. Valentine, Val. No. Pro. Who then; his fpirit? Val. Neither. Pro. What then? Val. Nothing. Laun. Can nothing speak? mafter, shall I strike? Laun. Nothing. Pro. Villain, forbear. Laun. Why, Sir, I'll ftrike nothing; I pray you,— Pro. No, Valentine. Val. No Valentine, indeed, for facred Silvia! Hath fhe forfworn me? Pro. No, Valentine. Val. No Valentine, if Silvia have forfworn me! What is your news? Laun. Sir, there's a proclamation that you are va- Pro. That thou art banifh'd; oh, that is the news, Pro. Ay, ay; and fhe hath offer'd to the doom, A A A fea of melting pearl, which fome call tears: As if but now they waxed pale for woe. But neither bended knees, pure hands held up, Val. No more; unless the next word that thou fpeak'ft, Have fome malignant power upon my life: Pro. Ceafe to lament for that thou canst not help, Val. I pray thee, Launce, an' if thou feest my boy, Bid him make hafte, and meet me at the north-gate. Pro. Pro. Go, Sirrah, find him out: come, Valentine. dear Silvia! hapless Valentine! Val. O my Laun. I [Exeunt Valentine and Protheus. SCENE IV. Am but a fool, look you, and yet I have the wit to think my mafter is a kind of a knave: but that's all one, if he be but one kind. 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 goffips; yet 'tis a maid, for fhe is her master's maid, and serves for wages: fhe hath more qualities than a water-fpaniel, which is much in a bare chriftian. Here is the cat-log [Pulling out a paper] of her conditions; Imprimis, fhe can fetch and carry; why, a horse can do no more; nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore fhe is better than a jade. Item, fhe can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands. Enter Speed. Speed. How now, fignior Launce? what news with your maftership? Laun. With my mafter's fhip? why, it is at fea. Speed. Well, your old vice ftill; mistake the word: what news then in your paper? Laun. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st. Speed. 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 lieft, I can. Laun. I will try thee; tell me this, who begot thee? Speed. Speed. Marry, the son of my grand-father. Laun. O illiterate loiterer, it was the fon of thy grand-mother; this proves, that thou canst not read. Speed. Come, fool, come, try me in thy paper. Laun. There, and St. Nicholas be thy speed! Speed. Imprimis, she can milk. Laun. Ay, that she can. Speed. Item, the brews good ale. Laun. And thereof comes the proverb, Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale. Speed, Item, fhe can fowe. Laun. That's as much as to say, Can fhe fo? Speed. Item, fhe can knit. Laun. What need a man care for a flock with a wench, when she can knit him a stock ! Speed. Item, fhe can wash and scour. Laun. A fpecial virtue, for then she need not to be wafh'd and fcour'd. Speed. Item, fhe can spin, Laun. Then may I fet the world on wheels, when fhe can fpin for her living. Speed. Item, fhe hath many nameless virtues. Laun. That's as much as to fay, Baftard Virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have no names. Speed. Here follow her vices. Laun. Clofe at the heels of her virtues. Speed. Item, fhe is not to be kift fafting, in respect of her breath. Laun. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfaft: read on. Speed. Item, fhe hath a sweet mouth. Laun. That makes amends for her four breath. Laun. It's no matter for that, fo fhe fleep not in her talk. Speed. Item, fhe is flow in words. Laun. O villain! that fet down among her vices! to |