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Val. And why not death, rather than living torment? To die, is to be banish'd from myself: And Silvia is myself; banish'd from her, Is self from felf: a deadly banishment ! What light is light, if Silvia be not seen ? What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by ? Unless it be to think, that she is by ; And feed upon the shadow of perfection. Except I be by Silvia in the night, There is no musick in the nightingale ; Unless I look on Silvia in the day, There is no day for me to look upon : She is my essence, and I leave to be, If I be not by her fair influence Foster'd, illumin’d, cherish'd, kept alive. I Ay not death, to fly his deadly doom; } Tarry I here, I but attend on death : But Ay I hence, I fly away from life. .

Enter Protheus and Launce.

Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out.
Laun. So-ho! fo-ho!
Pro. What seest thou ?

Laun. Him we go to find :
There's not an hair on's head, but 'tis a Valentine.

Pro. Valentine,
Val. No.
Pro. Who then ; his spirit?
Val. Neither.
Pro. What then ?

3 Ifly not death, to fly his dead- I fall not escape death. If I ly doom.) To fly his doom, used stay here, I fuffer myself to be for by flying, or in flying, is a destroyed; if I go away, I destroy gallicism. The sense is, By avoid. myself

. ing the execution of his sentence


Val. Nothing
Laun. Can nothing speak ? master, thall I strike?
Pro. Whom wouldit thou strike?
Laun. Nothing
Pro. Villain, forbear.
Laun. Why, Sir, I'll frike nothing; I pray you-
Pro. I say, forbear : friend Valenline, a word.

Val. My ears are stopt, and cannot hear good news ; So much of bad already hath posfelt them.

Pro. Then in dumb silence will I bury mine;
For they are harsh, untuneable, and bad.

Val. Is Silvia dead?
Pro. No, Valentine.

Val. No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia !
Hath she forsworn me ?

Pro. No, Valentine.

Val. No, Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me! What is your news? Laun. Sir, there's a proclamation that you are va

nilh'd. Pro. That thou art banish'd ; oh, that is the news, From hence, from Silvia, and from me thy friend.

Val. Oh, I have fed upon this woe already ; And now excess of it will make me surfeit, Doth Silvia know that I am banished?

Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom, Which unrevers'd stands in effectual force, A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears; Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd, With them, upon her knees, her humble felf, Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them, As if but now they waxed pale for woe. But neither bended knees, pure hands held up, Sad sighs, deep groans, nor filver- shedding tears, Could penetrate her uncompassionate Sire; But Valentine, if he be ta’en, must die. Besides, her interceflion chaf'd him fo, When she for thy repeal was suppliant,



That to close prison he commanded her,
With many bitter threats of 'biding there.
Val. No more ; unless the next word, that thou

Have some malignant power upon my life,
If so, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear,
As ending anthem of my endless dolour.

Pro. Cease to lament for that thou canst not help,
And study help for that which thou lamentit,
Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
Here if thou stay, thou can'st not see thy love;
Besides thy staying will abridge thy life,
Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that,
And manage it against despairing thoughts.
Thy letters may be here, tho' thou art hence,
Which, being wit to me, shall be deliver'd
Ev'n in the mi'k-white bofom of thy love.
The time now serves not to expostulate ;
Come, I'll convey thee through the city gate,
And ere I part with thee, confer at large
Of all that may concern thy love-affairs.
As thou lov'it Silvia, tho' not for thyself,
Regard thy danger, and along with me.

Val. I pray thee, Launce, an' if thou seest iny boy, Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north gate.

Pro. Go, Sirrah, find him our. Come, Valentine, Val. O my dear Silvia! hapless Valentine !

[Exeunt Valentine and Protheus.

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Laun. I am but a fool, look you, and yet I have the wit to think my master is a kind of a knave: buc that's all one, if he be but one knave. + He lives not now that knows me to be in love ; yet I am in


you, and

4 Laun. I am but a fool, look but that's all one, if he be but one

yet I have the wit to KRAVE.] Where is the lense, "Think my master is a kind of knave; or, if you won't allow thie VOL. I.


love ; but a team of horse s 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 ʼtis a milkmaid ; yet 'cis not a maid, for she hath had gossips ; yet ’tis a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages : she hath more qualities than a water-spaniel, which is much in a bare christian. Here is the cat log (Pulling out a Paper) of her conditions ; Imprimis, she can fetch and carry; why, a horse can do no more; nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry ; therefore she is better than a jade. Item, she can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands.

Enter Speed. Speed. How now, signior Launce? what news with your mastership?

Laun. With my master's ship? why, it is at sea. Speed. Well, your old vice till; mistake the word : what news then in your paper ? Speaker that, where is the hu- villian beyond the common rate mour of this speech ? Nothing of guilt. had given the fool occasion to 5 A team of horse small not suspect that his master was be- pluck.-) I see how Valentine come couble, like Antipholis in luffers for telling his love secrets, the Comedy of Errors. The last therefore I will keep mine clofe. word is coirupe.

We should o la former editions it is, read,


my Malter hip? why it is

at Sea.] For how does Launce if he be but one KIND.

mistake the word ? Speed alks He thought his master was a him about his Maite: thip, and kind of knave; however, he keeps he replies to him litteratim. But humteit in countenance with this then how was his Mattership at reflection, that if he was a knave Sea, and on Shore too? The but of one kind, he might pass Addition of a Letter and a Note well enough amongst his neigh- of Apostrophe makes Launce both bours. This is truly humorous. mistake the Word, and sets the

WARBURTON, Pun right: It restores, indeed, This alteration is acute and but a mean Joke; but, without specious, vet I know not whe. it, there is no Sense in the Pasther in Shakespeare's language,' sage. Besides, it is in Characier one kna ve may not signify aknave wich the rest of the Scene; and, 81 only one occasion a single knave. I dare be confident, the Poet's We still use a double villian for a Own Conceit.



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, jole-head, thou can'st not read.
Speed. Thou lyest, I can.
Laun. I will cry thee ; tell me this, who begot thee?
Speed. Marry, the son of my grand-father.

Laun. O illiterate loiterer, it was the son of thy grand-mother ; this proves, that thou can'st not read.

Speed. Come fool, come, try me in thy paper.
Laun. There, and St. Ni.bolas be chy speed !!
Speed. Imprimis, she can milk.
Laun. Ay, that she can.
Speed. Item, she brews good ale.

Laun. And therefore comes the proverb, Blessing of your beart, you brew good ale.

Speed. Item, she can sowe.
Laun. That's as much as to say, Can soe so?
Speed. Tiem, she can knir.

Laun. What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when she can knit him a stock!

Speed. Item, she can wash and scour.

Laun. A special virtue, for then she need not to be wash'd and scour'd.

Speed. Item, she can spin.

Laun. Then may I set the world on wheels, when The can spin for her living.

Speed. Item, she hath many nameless virtues.

Laun. That's as much as to say, Bastard Virtues ; that indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have no names.

Speed. Here follow her vices.

7 - St. Nicholas be thy Speed.] Old Nick, Highway-men, in the St. Nicholas presided over scho first part of Henry the fourth, are lars, who were therefore calied called Nicholas s Clerks. St. Nicholas's Clerks. Hence, by

WARSURTON. a quibble becueen Nicholas and Q 2


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