ACT I.

SCENE I. An open Place in Verona.

Enter Valentine and Protens.

Val. CEASE to persuade, my loving Proteus ;
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits:
Wer't not, affection chains thy tender days
To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love,
I rather would entreat thy company,

To see the wonders of the world abroad,
Than living dully sluggardiz'd at home,
Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.
But, since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein,
Even as I would, when I to love begin.
Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu!
Think on thy Proteus, when thou, haply, seest
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:
Wish me partaker in thy happiness,

When thou dost meet good hap; and, in thy danger,
If ever danger do environ thee,
Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers,
For I will be thy bead's-man, Valentine.

Val. And on a love-book pray for my success. Pro. Upon some book I love, I'll pray for thee. Val. That's on some shallow story of deep love, How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont.

Pro. That's a deep story of a deeper love, For he was more than over shoes in love. Val. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love, And yet you never swam the Hellespont. Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots. Val. No, I'll not, for it boots thee not. Pro.

What? Val. To be In love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks, With heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth, With twenty watchful, weary tedious nights: If haply won, perhaps, a hapless gain; If lost, why then a grievous labour won; However, but a folly bought with wit, Or else a wit by folly vanquished.

Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. Val. So, by your circumstance, I fear, you'll prove. Pro. 'Tis love you cavil at; I am not Love. Val. Love is your master, for he masters you: And he that is so yoked by a fool, Methinks should not be chronicled for wise.

Pro. Yet writers say, As in the sweetest bud The eating canker dwells, so eating love Inhabits in the finest wits of all.

Val. And writers say, As the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by love the young and tender wit Is turn'd to folly; blasting in the bud, Losing his verdure even in the prime, And all the fair effects of future hopes. But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee, That art a votary to fond desire?

Once more adien: my father at the road
Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd.

Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.
Val. Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave.
At Milan, let me hear from thee by letters,
Of thy success in love, and what news else
Betideth here in absence of thy friend;
And I likewise will visit thee with mine.

Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan! Val. As much to you at home! and so, farewell! [Exit.

Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love: He leaves his friends, to diguify them more; I leave myself, my friends, and all for love. Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphos'd me; Made me neglect my studies, lose my time, War with good counsel, set the world at nought; Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought.

Speed. Why then my horns are his horns, whether I wake or sleep.

Pro. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep.
Speed. This proves me still a sheep.

Pro. True; and thy master a shepherd. Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance. Pro. It shall go hard, but I'il prove it by another. Speed. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks not ine: therefore, I am no sheep.

Pro. The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd, the shepherd for food follows not the sheep; thou for wages followest thy master, thy master for wages follows not thee: therefore, thou art a sheep.

Speed. Such another proof will make me cry baa. Pro. But dost thou hear? gav'st thou my letter to Julia?

Speed. Ay, sir: I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, a laced matton; and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a lost matton, nothing for my labour.

Pro. Here's too small a pasture for such a store of

muttons.

Speed. If the ground be overcharged, you were best stick her.

Pro. Nay, in that you are astray; 'twere best pound

you.

Speed. Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your letter.

Pro. You mistake; I mean the pound, a pin-fold.

Speed. From a pound to a pin? fold it over and over, "Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover.

Pro. But what said she? did she nod? [Speed nods. Speed. I.

Pro. Nod 1? why, that's noddy.

Speed. You mistook, sir; I say, she did nod: and you ask me, if she did nod; and I say, I.

Pro. And that set together, is-noddy. Speed. Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for your pains.

Pro. No, no, you shall have it for bearing the letter. Speed. Well, I perceive, I must be fain to bear with

you.

Pro. Why, sir, how do you hear with me? Speed. Marry, sir, the letter very orderly; having nothing but the word, noddy, for my pains.

Pro. Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit. Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse. Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief: what said she?

Speed. Open your purse, that the money, and the matter, may be both at once delivered.

Pro. Well, sir, here is for your pains: what said she? Speed. Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her. Pro. Why?Couldst thou perceive so much from her? Speed. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no, not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter: and being so hard to me that brought your mind, I fear, she'll prove as hard to you in telling her mind. Give her no token but stones; for she's as hard as steel. Pro. What, said she nothing?

Speed. No, not so much as-take this for thy pains. To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testern'd me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself: and so, sir, I'll commend you to my master. Pro. Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wreck; Which cannot perish having thee aboard, Being destin'd to a drier death on shore :I must go send some better messenger; I fear, my Julia would not deign my lines, Receiving them from such a worthless post. [Exeunt.

SCENE H. The same. Garden of Julia's House. Enter Julia and Lucetta.

Jul. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone,
Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love?
Luc. Ay, madam; so you stumble not unheedfully.
Jul. Of all the fair resort of gentlemen,

That every day with parle encounter me,
In thy opinion, which is worthiest love?

Luc. Please you, repeat their names, I'll show my According to my shallow, simple skill.

[mind

Jul. What think 'st thou of the fair sir Eglamour? Luc. As of a knight well-spoken, neat and fine; But, were I you, he never should be mine.

Jul. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio? Luc. Well of his wealth; but of himself, so, so. Jul. What think 'st thou of the gentle Proteus? Luc. Lord, lord! to see what fully reigns in us! Jul. How now! what means this passion at his name? Luc. Pardon, dear madam; 'tis a passing shame, That I, unworthy body as I am,

Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.

Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest?
Luc. Then thus,of many good I think him best.
Jul. Your reason?

Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason;
I think him so, because I think him so.
Jul. And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him?
Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.
Jul. Why, he of all the rest hath never mov'd me.
Luc. Yet he of all the rest, I think best loves ye.
Jul. His little speaking shows his love but small.
Luc. Fire, that is closest kept, burns most of all.
Jul. They do not love, that do not show their love.
Luc. O, they love least, that let men know their love.
Jul. I would I knew his mind.

Luc.

Luc.

Peruse this paper, madam. Jul. To Julia, Say, from whom? That the contents will show. Jul. Say, say; who gave it thee? [Proteus. Luc. Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from He would bave given it you, but I, being in the way, Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault, I pray. Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker! Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines? To whisper and conspire against my youth? Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth, And you an officer fit for the place.

There, take the paper, see it be return'd;
Or else return no more into my sight.
Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.
Jul. Will you be gone?

Luc.

That you may ruminate. [Exit. Jul. And yet, I would I had o'erlook'd the letter. It were a shame to call her back again, And pray her to a fault for which I chid her. What fool is she, that knows I am a maid, And would not force the letter to my view? Since maids, in modesty, say No, to that Which they would have the profferer construe, Ay. Fie, fie! how wayward is this foolish love, That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse, And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod ! How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence, When willingly I would have had her here! How angrily I taught my brow to frown, When inward joy enforc'd my heart to smile! My penance is, to call Lucetta back, And ask remission for my folly past.What ho! Lucetta!

Jul. Is it near dinner-time? Luc.

Nothing.

I would it were; That you might kill your stomach on your meat, And not upon your maid. Jul. What is't you took up So gingerly? Luc. Jul. Why did'st thou stoop then? Luc. To take a paper up that I let fall. Jul. And is that paper nothing? Luc. Nothing concerning me. Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns. Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns, Unless it have a false interpreter.

Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune: Give me a note: your ladyship can set.

Jul. As little by such toys as may be possible:
Best sing it to the tune of Light o'love.

Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune.
Jul. Heavy? belike it hath some burden then.
Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it.
Jul. And why not you?

Luc.
I cannot reach so high.
Jul. Let's see your song:-How now, minion?
Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out:
And yet, methinks, I do not like this tune.
Jul. You do not?

Luc. No, madam; it is too sharp.
Jul. You, minion, are too saucy.

Luc. Nay, now you are too flat.

And mar the concord with too harsh a descant:
There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.

Jul. The mean is drown'd with your auraly base.
Luc. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.
Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.
Here is a coil with protestation! Tears the Letter.

Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie:
You would be lingering them to anger me. [pleas'd
Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be best
To be so anger'd with another letter.
[Exit.

Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same!
O hateful hands, to tear sach loving words!
Injurious wasps! to feed on such sweet honey,
And kill the bees, that yield it, with your stings!
I'll kiss each several paper for amends.
And here is writ-kind Julia;-unkind Julia!
As in revenge of thy ingratitude,

I throw thy name against the bruising stones,
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.
Look, here is writ-love-wounded Proteus:-
Poor wounded name! my bosom, as a bed,
Shall lodge thee, till thy wound be thoroughly heal'd ;
And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
But twice, or thrice, was Proteus written down?
Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away,
Till I have found each letter in the letter,
Except mine own name; that some whirlwind bear
Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock,
And throw it thence into the raging sea!
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,-
Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia;-that I'll tear away;
And yet I will not, sith so prettily
He couples it to his complaining names:

Thus will I fold them one upon another;
Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.
Re-enter Lucetta.

Luc. Madam, dinner's ready and your father stays.
Jul. Well, let us go.

Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here? Jul. If you respect them, best to take them up. Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down: Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold.

Jul. I see, you have a month's mind to them. Luc. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see; I see things too, although you judge I wink. Jul. Come, come, will't please you go? [Exeunt.

The same.

SCENE III.

A Room in Antonio's House.
Enter Antonio and Panthino.

Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that,
Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister?
Pan. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son.
Ant. Why, what of him?
Pan.

He wonder'd, that your lordship Would suffer him to spend his youth at home; While other men, of slender reputation, Put forth their sons to seek preferment out: Some, to the wars, to try their fortune there; Some, to discover islands far away; Some, to the studious universities. For any, or for all these exercises, He said, that Proteus, your son was meet:

And did request me, to importune you,

To let him spend his time no more at home,
Which would be great impeachment to his age,

In having known no trouble in his youth.

Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune 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 achiev'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.

[thither:

Pan. Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him There shall he practise tilts and tournaments, Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen; And be in eye of every exercise, Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.

Ant. I like thy counsel; well hast thou advis'd:
And, that thou may'st perceive how well I like it,
The execution of it shall make known;
Even with the speediest execution

I will despatch him to the emperor's court.
Pan. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso,
With other gentlemen of good esteem,
Are journeying to salute the emperor,
And to commend their service to his will.
Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go:
And, in good time,-now will we break with him.
Enter Proteus.

Pro. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life!
Here is her hand, the agent of her heart:
Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn:
O, that our fathers would applaud our loves,
To seal our happiness with their consents!
O heavenly Julia!

Ant. How now? what letter are you reading there?
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 thou shalt have from me.

'I'o-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.

[thee.

Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent after
No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.-
Come on, Panthino; you shall be employ'd
To hasten on his expedition. [Exeunt Ant, and Pan.
Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the tire, for fear of burning,
And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd:
I fear'd to show 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 shows all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away!
Re-enter Panthino.

Pan. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you;
He is in haste, therefore, I pray you, go.
Pro. Why, this it is! my heart accords thereto;
And yet a thousand times it answers, no.
[Exeunt.

Val. Ha! let me see: ay, give it me, it's mine :-
Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine!
Ah Silvia Silvia!

Speed. Madam Silvia! madam Silvia!
Val. How now, sirrah!

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'il still be too forward.
Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow.
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 voung 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 laugh'd, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to wa k 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, that, when I look on you, I can hardly think you my master.

Val. Are a these things perceived in me?
Speed. They are all perceived without you.
Val. Without me? they cannot.

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.

al. But, tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia? Speed. She, that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper?

Val. Hast thou observ'd 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. And have you?

Val. I have.

Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand. Speed. He should give her interest; and she gives it him.

[done.

al. 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. Sil. I thank you, gentle servant: 'tis very clerkly 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 seque!; 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.

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 need 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.
Speed. And that letter hath she delivered, and
there an end.

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, [lover

Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her 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.
Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake.
Jul. If you turn not, you will return the sooner.
[Giving a Ring.
Pro. Why then we'll make exchange; here, take
you this.

Jul. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss.
And when that hour o'erslips me in the day,
Pro. Here is my hand for my true constancy;
Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake,
The next ensuing hour some foul mischance
Torment me for my love' forgetfulness!
My father stays my coming; answer not;
That tide will stay me longer than I should;
The tide is now: nay, not the tide of tears;

[Exit Julia.

Julia, farewell.-What! gone without a word?
For truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace it.
Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak;

Enter Panthino.

Pan. Sir Proteus, y u are staid for. Pro. Go; I come, I come :Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb. [Exeunt.

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 sourestnatured 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 pobble-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 left shoe is my father;-no, no, this left shoe is my 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 vengeance 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 and I am myself; ay, so, so.-Now come I to my dog is himself, and I am the dog.-O, the dog is me, 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 woodwoman-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.

Enter Panthino.

Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy master is shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? why weepest thou, man? Away, ass; you will lose the tide, if you tarry any longer. Laun. It is no matter if the ty'd were lost; for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever any man ty'd. Pan. What's the unkindest tide?

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 shouldst lose thy tongue.
Pan. Where should I lose my tongue?
Laun. In thy tale.

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, then 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 ere 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.

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 countryman?

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. Ay, my good lord; a son that well deserves. The honour and regard of such a father. Duke. You know him well?

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

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 head unmellow'd, but his judgment ripe;
His years but young, but his experience old;
And, in a word (for far behind his worth
Come all the praises that I now bestow),
He is complete in feature, and in mind,
With all good grace to grace a gentleman.

Duke. Beshiew me, sir, but, if he make this good,
He is as worthy for an empress' love,
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 awhile:
I think, 'tis no unwelcome news to you.

1

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

[Exit.

Sil. Belike, that now she hath enfranchis'd them Upon some other pawn for fealty. [still.

Val. Nay, sure, I think, she holds them prisoners 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.

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

man.

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, Go with me:-Once more, new servant, welcome : 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? [commended. Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much Val. And how do yours?

Pro.

I left them all in health. Val. How does your lady? and how thrives your love?

Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you;

I know, you joy not in a love-discourse.
Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now:
I have done penance for contemning love;
Whose high imperious thoughts have panish'd me
With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,
With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs;
For, in revenge of my contempt of love,