« السابقةمتابعة »
gone, I will not hear thy vain excuse, But as thou lov'it thy life, make speed from hence. (Exit.
Val. And why not death, rather than living torinent?
Enter Protheus and Launce.
Laun. Him we go to find;
Val. My ears are stopt, and cannot hear good news, So much of bad already hath posseft them.
Pro. Then in dumb filence will I bury mine; For they are harsh, untuneable, and bad,
Val. I. Silvia dead? Pro. No, Valentine.
Val. No Valentine, indeed, for facred 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 vanih'a.
Pro. That thou art banilh'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 offered to the doom,
Val. No more ; unless the next word, that thou speak'st,.
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,
Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.
Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou feeft my boy,
Pro. Go, Sirrah, find him out: come, Valentine !
Exeunt Val, and Pro. Laun. I am but a fool, look you, and yet I have the wit to think
master is a kind of a knave: but 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 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 the hath had goflips; yet 'tis a maid, for The 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 is the better than a jade. Item, she can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands.
Enter Speed. Speed. How now, fignior Launce? what news with your mastership? Laun. With my master's thip? why, it is at sea. (12)
Speed. (12) With my mastership ? wby, it is at fea.]. These poetical Editors are pleasant Gentlemen to let this pass without any luspicion.
Speed. Well, your old vice still; mistake the word; What news then in your paper ?
Laun. The blackest news that ever thou heard'lt.
Laun. O illiterate loiterer, it was the fon of thy grand-mother; this proves, that thou can's not read.
Sfeed. Come, fool, come, try me in thy paper.
Laun. And thereof comes the proverb, Bleffing of your heart, you brew good ate.
Speed. Item, The can sowe.
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.
Laur. 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, the hath many nameless virtues.
Laun. That's as much as to say, bastard virtues: that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have no
For how does Launce mistake the word ? Speed asks him about his mastership, and he replies to it litteratim. But then how was his mastership at lea, and on shore too? The addition of a letter and a, note of Apostrophe make Launce both mistake the word, and sets the pun right: It restores, indeed, but å mean joke; but, without it, there is no sense in the passage. Belides, it is in character with the Keft of the scene; and I dare be confident, the Poet's own conceit:
Speed. Here follow her vices.
Speed. Item, she is not to be kift fafting, in respectof her breath.
Laun. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfait : read on.
Speed. Item, the hath a sweet mouth.
Laur. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk.
Speed. Item, she is slow in words.
Laun. O villain! that set down among her vices ! to be flow in words is a woman's only virtue ; I pray thee, out with't, and place it for her chief virtue
Speed. Item, she is proud.
Laun. Out with that too: it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her.
Speed. Item, she hath no teeth.
Laun. I care not for that neither, because I love cruits.
Speed. Item, she is curft.
Laur. If her liquor be good, the shall; if she will not, I will; for good things should be praised.
Speed. Item, she is too liberal.
Laun. Of her tongue she cannot; for that's writ down, she is slow of; of her purse the shall not, for that I'll keep shut; now of another thing the may, and that I cannot help. Well, proceed.
Speed. Item, the bath more hairs than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.
Laun. Stop here; I'll have her; she was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that article. Rehearse that once more.
Speed. Item, she hath more hair than wit.
Laun. More hair than wit, it may be ; I'll prove it:. the cover of the salt hides the falt, and therefore, it is more than the salt; the hair, that covers the wit, is