The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare

Pant. "Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither:

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 advised:
And, that thou may'st perceive how well I like it,
The execution of it shall make known;
Even with the speediest expedition

I will despatch him to the emperor's court.
Pant. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Al-
phonso,

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.1 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 commendations sent from Valentine, eliver'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 exhibition3 thou shalt have from me.
To-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.

Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent

after thee:

No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.-
Come on, Panthino; you shall be employed
To hasten on his expedition.

[Exeunt ANT. and PANT. Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire, for fear of

burding;.

And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd:
I fear'd to shew 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 resembleth4

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.

Pant. 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.

1 i. e. break the matter to him.

2 i. e. wonder hot.

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'll 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 young 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 Hollowmas." You were wont, when you laugh'd, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to walk 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 all 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.

Val. But, tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia?

Speed. She that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper?

Val. Hast thou observed that? even she I mean.
Speed. Why, sir, I know her not.

Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet know'st her not?

Speed. Is she not hard-favour'd, sir?

Val. Not so fair, boy, as well favour'd.
Speed. Sir, I know that well enough.
Val. What dost thou know?

Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) wellfavour'd.

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. Marry, sir, so painted to make her fair, that no man counts of her beauty.

4 Resembleth is pronounced as if written resembeleth, which makes it a quadrisyllable.

5 On and one were anciently pronounced alike, and frequently written so.

6 To take diet is to be under a regimen for a disease. 7 The feast of All-hallows, or All Saints, at which time the poor in Staffordshire go from parish to parish a souling, as they call it; i. e. begging and puling, (or singing small, as Bailey's Dictionary explains puling,) for soul cakes, and singing what they call the souler's song. These terms point out the condition of this benevo

3 Exhibition is allowance of money; it is still uced lence, which was, that the beggars should pray for the In the Universities for a stipend.

souls of the giver's departed friends.

Val. How esteem'st thou me? I account of her beauty.

Sil. And, when it's writ, for my sake read it

over:

Speed. You never saw her since she was de- And, if it please you, so; if not, why, so. formed.

Val. How long hath she been deform'd?
Speed. Ever since you loved her.

Val. I have loved her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful.

Speed. If you love her, you cannot see her.
Val. Why?

Speed. Because love is blind. O, that you had mine eyes; or your own eyes had the lights they were wont to have, when you chid at Sir Proteus for going ungartered!!

Val. What should I see then?

Speed. Your own present folly, and her passing deformity for he, being in love, could not see to garter his hose; and you, being in love, cannot see to put on your hose.

Val. Belike, boy, then you are in love; for last morning you could not see to wipe my shoes.

Speed. True, sir; I was in love with my bed: I thank you, you swinged me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you for yours.

Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her. Speed. I would you were set, so, your affection would cease.

Val. Last night she enjoined me to write some lines to one she loves.

Speed. And have you?

Val. I have.

Speed. Are they not lamely writ?

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 SILVIA. 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 woos 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

Val. No, boy, but as well as I can do them:- you perceive her earnest ? Peace, here she comes.

sand.

Speed. He should give her interest; and she gives it him.

Val. 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 done.

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 sequel; 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. 1 Going ungartered is enumerated by Rosalind as one of the undoubted marks of love. Then your hose should be ungartered, your bonnet unbanded," &c. As You Like It, iii. 2.

Val. She gave me none, except an angry wor
Speed. Why, she hath given you a letter.
Val. That's the letter I writ to her friend.
Speed. And that letter hath she deliver'd, and
there an end.5

Val. I would, it were no worse.
Speed. I'll warrant you, 'tis as well:

For often have you 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,

Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her

lover.

Why muse you, sir? 'tis dinner-time.
All this I speak in print; for in print I found it.-

Val. I have dined.

Speed. Ay, but hearken, sir: though the camenourished by my victuals, and would fain have leon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am 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. Jul. If you turn not, you will return the sooner: Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake.

[Giving a ring.

Pro. Why then we'll make exchange; here, take you this.

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

the horizon in the west. It is a miserable quibble hardly worth explanation.

3 Motion signified, in Shakspeare's time, a puppet. shou Speed means to say, what a fine puppet-show shall we have now? Here is the principal puppet to whom my master will be the interpreter. The show2 Set, for seated, in opposition to stand in the prece-man was then frequently called the interpreter. ding line. It appears, however, to be used metaphorical- 4 i. e. like a scholar. ly in the sense applied to the sun when it sinks below 5 There's the conclusion.

6 i. e. with exactness

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
sourest-natured dog that lives: my mother weeping,
my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howl-
ing, 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 pebble
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 i
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 fa-
ther: 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 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,
(0, that she could speak now!) like a wood wo-
man;-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 should'st lose thy tongue.
Pan. Where should I lose my tongue?
Laun. In thy tale.

Pan. In thy tail?

Laun. Lose the tide, 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.

Pan. Come, come away, man; I was sent to

call thee.

Laun. Sir, call me what thou darest.
Pan. Wilt thou go?

Laun. Well, I will go.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Milan. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Enter VALENTINE, SILVIA, THURIO, and SPEED.

Val. Ay, boy, it's for love.
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. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off.

Val. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver.
Sil. Who is that, servant?

Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's
Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire:
looks, and spends what he borrows, kindly in your

company.

shall make your wit bankrupt.
Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me,

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 de

serves

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,

ation was evidently cote from the French original,
5 To quote is to mark, to observe, the old pronunci-

6 Feature in the poet's age was often used for form or person in general. Thus Baret: "The feature and facion, or the proportion and figure of the whole body. Conformatio quædam et figura totius oris et sor porís." So in Ant. and Cleop. Act. ii. Sc. 5.

"Report the feature of Octavian."

Thus also Spenser:

"Which the fair feature of her limbs did hic."

With all good grace to grace a gentleman.

| Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes, Duke. Beshrew' me, sir, but, if he make this And made them watchers of mine own heart's sor

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. [Eat DURE.
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.

Enter PROTEUS.

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

tleman.

Val. Welcome, dear Proteus !-Mistress, I be-
seech 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.

Si. Too low a mistress for so high a servant.
Pro. Not so, sweet lady; but too mean a ser-

vant

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?

Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much
commended.

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 punish'd me With bitter fasts, with penitential groans, With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs; For, in revenge of my contempt of love,

1 A petty mode of adjuration equivalent to ill betide

me.

row.

O, gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord;
And hath so humbled me, as, I confess,
There is no woe4 to his correction.
Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth!
Now, no discourse, except it be of love.
Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep,
Upon the very naked name of love.
Pro. Enough; I read
fortune in your eye
your
Was this the idol that you worship so?
Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint?
Pro. No; but she's an earthly paragon.
Val. Call her divine.

Pro. I will not flatter her.

Val. O, flatter me; for love delights in presses. Pro. When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills; And I must minister the like to you.

Val. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine, Yet let her be a principality,

Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth.
Pro. Except my mistress.

Val. Sweet, except not any,

Except thou wilt except against thy love.
Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine own?
Val. And I will help thee to prefe her too:
She shall be dignified with this high hour,-
To bear my lady's train; lest the base earth
Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss,
Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower
And, of so great a favour growing proud,
And make rough winter everlastingly.

Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this?
Val. Pardon me, Proteus: all I can, is nothing
She is alone.
To her, whose worth makes other worthies nothing;

Pro. Then let her alone.

Val. Not for the world: why, man, she is mine
own;

As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl,
And I as rich in having such a jewel,
The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
Forgive me, that I do not dream on thee,
Because thou seest me dote upon my love.
My foolish rival, that her father likes,
Only for his possessions are so huge,
Is gone with her along; and I must after,
For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy.
Pro. But she loves you?

Val.

Nay, more, our marriage hour,
Ay, and we are betroth'd;
Determin'd of: how I must climb her window;
With all the cunning manner of our flight,
The ladder made of cords: and all the means
Plotted; and 'greed on, for my happiness.
Good Proteus, go with me to my chamber,
In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel

[Exit VAL.

Pro. Go on before; I shall inquire you forth:
I must unto the road, to disembark
Some necessaries that I needs must use;
And then I'll presently attend you.
Val. Will you make haste?
Even as one heat another heat expels,
Pro. I will.-
Or as one nail by strength drives out another,
So the remembrance of my former love
Is it her mien, or Valentinus' praise,
Is by a newer object quite forgotten.
That makes me, reasonless, to reason thus ?
Her true perfection, or my false transgression,
She's fair; and so is Julia, that I love ;-
That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd;
Bears no impression of the thing it was.
Which, like a waxen image, 'gainst a fire,
Methinks, my zeal to Valentine is cold;

4 No woe, no misery that can be compared to the punishment inflicted by love.

5 A principality is an angel of the first order
6 i. e. the haven where the ships lie at anchor.

7 Alluding to the figures made by witches as repre sentatives of those they meant to destroy or torment. V. Macbeth, Act ii Se 3

And that I love him not, as I was wont:
O! but I love his lady, too, too much;
And that's the reason I love him so little.
How shall I dote on her, with more advice,'
That thus without advice begin to love her?
'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld,
And that hath dazzled3 my reason's light;
But when I look on her perfections,
There is no reason but I shall be blind.
If I can check my erring love, I will;
If not, to compass her I'll use my skill.

[Exit.

SCENE V.-The same. A Street. Enter SPEED and LAUNCE.

Milan.

Speed. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to Laun. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth; for am not welcome. I reckon this always-that a man is never undone, till he be hanged; nor never welcome to a place, till some certain shot be paid, and the hostess say, welcome.

SCENE VI.-The same. An Apartment in the
Palace. Enter PROTEUS.

Pro. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn;
To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn;
To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn;
And even that power, which gave me first my oath,
Provokes me to this threefold perjury.

Love bade me swear, and love bids me forswear:
O sweet suggesting love, if thou hast sinn'd,
Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it.
At first I did adore a twinkling star,
But now I worship a celestial sun.
Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken:
To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better.-
And he wants wit, that wants resolved will
Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad,
Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd
I cannot leave to love, and yet I do;
With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths.
But there I leave to love, where I should love.
Speed. Come on, you mad-cap, I'll to the ale-If I keep them, I needs must lose myself;
Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose :
house with you presently; where, for one shot of If I lose them, thus find I by their loss,
ive pence thou shalt have five thousand welcomes. For Valentine, myself; for Julia, Silvia.
But, sirrah, how did thy master part with madam I to myself am dearer than a friend;
And Silvia, witness heaven, that made her fair'
For love is still most precious in itself:
Shews Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.
I will forget that Julia is alive,
Rememb'ring that my love to her is dead;
And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,
Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.
I cannot now prove constant to myself,
Without some treachery used to Valentine:-
This night, he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celestial Silvia's chamber-window;

Julia?

Laun. Marry, after they closed in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest.

Speed. But shall she marry him?
Laun. No.

Speed. How then? shall he
Laun. No, neither.

marry her?

Speed. What, are they broken?

Laun. No, they are both as whole as a fish.
Speed. Why then, how stands the matter with

them?

Laun. Marry, thus; when it stands well with him, it stands well with her.

not.

Speed. What an ass art thou! I understand thee Laun. What a block art thou, that thou canst not? My staff understands me.

Speed. What thou say'st?

Laun. Ay, and what I do too: look thee I'll but lean, and my staff understands me.

Speed. It stands under thee, indeed.

Laun. Why, stand under and understand is all

one.

Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match? Laun. Ask my dog: if he say, ay, it will; if he say, no, it will; if he shake his tail, and say nothing, it will.

Speed. The conclusion is then, that it will. Laun. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me, but by a parable.

Speed. 'Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how say'st thou, that my master is become a notable lover?

Laun. I never knew him otherwise.
Speed. Than how?

Laun. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be.

Myself in counsel, his competitor :

Of their disguising, and pretended' flight;
Now presently I'll give her father notice
For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter:
Who all enrag'd, will banish Valentine;
But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross,
By some sly trick, blunt Thurio's dull proceeding.
Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift,
As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift! [Exit.

SCENE VII.

Verona. A Room in Julia's House. Enter JULIA
and LUCETTA.

Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me!
And, e'en in kind love, I do conjure thee,-
Who art the table wherein all my thoughts
Are visibly Character'd and engrav'd,--
To lesson me; and tell me some good mean,
How, with my honour, I may undertake
A journey to my loving Proteus.

Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long.
Jul. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary
To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;
Much less shall she, that hath love's wings to fly;
And when the flight is made to one so dear,
Of such divine perfection, as Sir Proteus.

Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return.
Jul. O, know'st thou not, his looks are my
soul's food?

Pity the dearth that I have pined in,
By longing for that food so long a time.
Didst thou but know the inly touch of love,
Thou would'st as soon go kindle fire with snow,
As seek to quench the fire of love with words.

5 To suggest, in the language of our ancestors, was to tempt.

6 i. e. myself who am his competitor or rival, being admitted to his counsel. Competitor here means con federate, assistant, partner. Thus in Ant. Cleop. Act v. Sc. 1.

That thou my brother, my competitor
In top of all design, my mate in empire,
Friend and companion in the front of war.

7 i. e. proposed or intended flight. The verb pretendre has the same signification in French.

8 The verb to conjure, or earnestly request, was then accented on the first syllable.

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The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare, Volume 1