dog is himself, and I am the dog,-Oh! 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, (Oh, 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.

Enter PANTHINO.

Pant. Launce, away, away, aboard: thy master is shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? why weep'st thou, man? Away, ass, you'll lose the tide, if you tarry any longer.

Launce. It is no matter if the tied were lost; for it is the unkindest tied that ever any man tied.

Pant. What's the unkindest tide?

Launce. Why, he that's tied here; Crab, my dog.

Pant. 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? Launce. For fear thou shouldst lose thy tongue.

Pant. Where should I lose my tongue?

Launce. In thy tale.

Pant. In thy tail?

Launce. Lose the tied, and the voyage, and the master, and the service, and the tide. Why, man, if the river were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the wind were down, I could drive the boat with my sighs.

6

...

like a wood woman:] The folio, 1623, prints it thus, like a wouldwoman," with a hyphen, and the old corrector of the folio, 1632, alters would to wild; but the proper emendation seems to be "wood" for would,—“ wood” signifying wild, frantic, mad, and so we print the text, "would-woman" having been preserved through all the four folios. It deserves remark that "she" is allowed to remain in the previous parenthesis (it is not a parenthesis in the early impressions), and not changed to shoe, as Blackstone proposed: if any alteration were adopted, it ought to be "Oh, that the shoe could speak!”

7- and the TIDE.] The first "tied" refers to the dog, and the last to the river, as we see from what follows,-" Why man, if the river were dry," &c. The joke which has occupied Launce and Panthino is, perhaps, more evident in the old copy, where the "tide" of the river, and the "tied" dog are spelt in the same way-tide.

Pant. Come; come, away, man: I was sent to call thee.

Launce. Sir, call me what thou dar'st.

Pant. Wilt thou go?

Launce. Well, I will go.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Milan. A Room in the DUKE's Palace.

Enter VALENTINE, SILVIA, THURIO, and SPEED.

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.

8

how QUOTE you my folly?] To "quote" is to note or observe. See Vol. iv. p. 568; Vol. v. p. 116, &c. Valentine in his answer plays upon the word, which was then pronounced coat.

9

- I'LL double your folly.] The reading of the corr. fo. 1632 is ""Twill double your folly," but we may doubt how far it is to be adopted.

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?

Sir

Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire. 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 the Duke.

Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset. Sir Valentine, your father's in good health:

What say you to a letter from

Of much good news?

Val.

your friends

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 wealth and worthy estimation',

And not without desert so well reputed.

Duke. Hath he not a son ?

To be of WEALTH and worthy estimation,] The folios have worth for "wealth;" but worth is mere tautology, for how could Don Antonio be

"And not without desert so well reputed,"

if he were not of worth? Valentine first refers to Antonio's "wealth" and then to his worth and estimation. The same misprint, only of the superlative degree, is committed in Fletcher's " Mad Lover,” A. v. sc. 4 (edit. Dyce, vi. 210), where Memnon exclaims,

"You have given me here a treasure to enrich me,
Would make the wealthiest king alive a beggar."

The Rev. Mr. Dyce allows worthiest to remain in the text, instead of "wealthiest,” which the context shows must have been the poet's word: it was not "the worthiest king alive," but "the wealthiest king alive," who was to be made a beggar in comparison with the treasure given to the hero. The correction is too obvious to need enforcement, and the wonder is that no editor ever saw the imperative demand for alteration: Mr. Dyce is no more to blame than all who have gone before him. See also "Twelfth-Night," A. iii. sc. 3, Vol. ii. p. 691.

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:
And though myself have been an idle truant,
Omitting the sweet benefit of time

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 judgment ripe;
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. Beshrew 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 a-while.

I think, 'tis no unwelcome news to you.

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.

[Exit 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.
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.

2 I need not CITE] i. e. Incite. In "Henry VI., Part III.," A. ii. sc. 1, Vol. iv. p. 136, "cites" may rather be thought to mean calls-"It cites us, brother, to the field."

Enter PROTEUS.

Sil. Have done, have done. Here comes the gentleman.
[Exit THURIO.
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.

That

you are worthless.

Re-enter THURIO'.

Thu. Madam, my lord, your father, would speak with

you.

Sil. I wait upon his pleasure: 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?

• Re-enter Thurio.] All editors, from Theobald downwards, make "a Servant" enter here, and not Thurio, to whom the old copies assign the sentence, "Madam, my lord, your father, would speak with you." They say also that the commencement of Silvia's answer is " addressed to two persons." This is by no means clear: 66 I wait upon his pleasure: come, sir Thurio, go with me," is spoken to Thurio with more propriety than to two distinct persons. It is much more likely that Thurio went out on the entrance of Proteus, and returned with the message of the Duke to his daughter: the economy of our old stage, with many characters and with few performers, did not allow the waste of an actor in the part of a mere message-carrier. The great probability, therefore, is that the folios are right, and that Thurio is employed from the Duke.

VOL. I.

I