SCENE changes to Julia's Houfe at Verona. Enter Protheus and Julia. Pro. Hul. I muft, where is no remedy. AVE patience, gentle Julia. Pro. When poffibly I can, I will return. Jul. If you turn not, you will return the fooner: Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's fake. [Giving a ring. Pro. Why then we'll make exchange; here, take you this.. Jul. And feal the bargain with a holy kiss. Pro. Here is my hand for my true conftancy; And when that hour o'erflips me in the day, Wherein I figh not, Julia, for thy fake: The next enfuing hour fome foul mifchance 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 ftay me longer,than I should: [Exit Julia. Julia, farewel.-What! gone without a word ? Ay, fo true love fhould do; it cannot speak; For truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace it. Enter Panthion. Pan. Sir Pretheus, you are ftay'd for. Pro. Go; I come. Alas! this parting ftrikes poor lovers dumb. [Exeunt. Laun. N 1 AY, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault: I have receiv'd my proportion, like the prodigious fon, and am going with Sir Protheus to the Imperial's court. I think, Crab my dog be the fowreft-natur'd dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my fifter crying, our maid howl ling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity; yet did not this cruel-hearted cur fhed one tear! he is a ftone, a very pebble-stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a. Jew would have wept, to have feen our parting; why, my gran dam having no eyes, look you, wept herfelf blind at my parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner of it: this fhoe is my father; no, this left fhoe is my father; no, no, this left fhoe is my mother; nay, that cannot be so neither; yes, it is fo, it is fog it hath the worfer fole; this fhoe, with the hole in it, is "my mother, and this my father; a vengeance on't, there 'tis : now, Sir, this staff is my fifter; for, look you, the is as white as a lilly, and as fmall as a wand; this hat is Nan, our maid I am the dog; no, the dog is himfelf, and I am the dog : oh, the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, fo, fo; now come I to my father; father, your bleffing; now fhould not the fhoe fpeak a word for weeping; now should I kifs my father; well, he weeps on; now come I to my mother; oh that fhe could speak now (9) like a wood woman! well, I kiss her (9) Like an ould woman!] These mere poetical Editors can do nothing towards an emendation, even when 'tis chalk'd out to their hands. The first folia's agree in would-woman; for which, because it was a mystery to Mr. Pofe, he has unmeaningly fubftituted ould rutman. But it must be writ, or at leaft understood, wood woman, i. e. crazy, frantick with grief; or, distracted, from any other cause. The word is very frequently used in Chaucer; and fometimes writ, rwood; fometimes, vode. What should he study, or make himself wood? In his character of the Monk, They told ev'ry man that he was code, He was aghafte fo of Noe's flede. In his Miller's Tale. And he likewife ufes wodeness, for madness. Vide Spelman's Saxon Glossary in the word wod. As to the reading in the old editions, would-acman, perhaps, this may be a defign'd corruption, to make Launce purpofely blunder in the word, as he a little before very humorously calls the prodigal fon, the prodigious fohought to take notice, that my ingenious friend Mr. Korburton fent me up this fame emendation, unknowing that I had already corrected the place. VOL. I. I I her; why, there 'tis? here's my mother's breath up and down: now come I to my fifter; mark the moan The makes now the dog all this while fheds not a tear, nor fpeaks a word; but fee, how I lay the duft with my tears. Enter Panthion. Pant. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy mafter is fhipp'd, and thou art to poft after with oars what's the matter? why weep'ft thou, man? away, afs, you will lofe the tide if you tarry any longer. Laun. It is no matter if the ty'd were loft, for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever any man tyd. Pant. What's the unkindeft tide? Jav192 AP Laun. Why, he that's tyd here; Crab, my dog. why doft Pant. Tut, man, I mean thou'c lofe the flood; and in lofing the flood, lofe thy voyage; and in lofing thy voyage, lofe thy mafter; and in lofing thy mafter, lofe thy fervice; and in lofing thy fervice, thou ftop my mouth na fides i mest fed Laun. For fear thou should'st lofe thy tongue. Pant. Where should I lose my tongue? Laun. In thy tale. Pant. In thy tail? Boy Stoup wod baA Laun. Lofe the flood, and the voyage, and the mafter, and the fervice, 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 highsinado woy ob. Sorud Pri? quons 1sdW 32 Pant. Come, come away, man; I was fent to callthee. Loddunu Sir, call me what thou dar ft. 201T Pant. Wilt thou go? Laun. Well, I will go. .is tuoy ni evil nade bis oved woY [Exeunt. sini zid: vnd out 94cb bus 12 YA M I had like to have forgot, that wood is a term likewife ufed by our own Post, Midsummer-Night's Dream, A& 210° ont à lỗ And here am I, and wood within this wood. To to Which Mr. Fope has there rightly expounded, by mad, suild, raping. And again, Shakespeare, in one of his poems, has this line Then to the woods ftark wood in rage the hies her. SCENE 633 £10 An Apartment in the Duke's Palace. griw fick sit val Šil. Enter Valentine, Silvia, Thurio, and Speed. Val. Mistress Pers Speed. Mafter, Sir Thuria frowns on youus E qart Speed. Not of you. Val. Of my mistress then. Speed. 'Twere good, you knockt himasta 2a8 933, Val. Indeed, madam, I feem fo. Tbu. Seem you that you are not val Haply, I do. a Thu. So do counterfeita Val. So do you. Thu. What feem I, that I am notte var qui uol Thu. And how quote you my folly ? Thu. My jerkin is a doublet.basis bra The How vast luren & awol wiser baiz od: 1 Sil. What angry, Sir Thurio? do you change colour? Val, Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of Gameleon. 2. That hath more mind to feed on your blood, than live in your air. Vog godt iliW to! al You have said, Sir. 03 Hiw X MW mend Thu. Ay, Sir, and done too, for this time. To Kal.I know it well, Sir; you always end,ere you begin. Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly hot off. Val. Tis, indeed, madam, we thank the giver, Val. Yourfelf, fweet Lady, for you gave the fire: Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your Ladyship's looks, and fpends, what be borrows, kindly in your company Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt V Val. I know it well, Sir you have an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other treasure to give your f fol lowers for it appears, by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words. mild on 19 7 9.0 Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more: Here comes a sur lɔenul pe my father. drub. ཏྭཱཀཝཱ། Enter the Dake contin mur bal Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard befet. Sir Valentine, your father's in good health brH What fay you to a letter from your friends id biod bia Of much good news 15 s. 12 Val, My Lord, I will be thankful mudro emol noq'I To any happy meffenger from thence. Duke. Keow you Don Anthonio, your countryman? Kal. Ay, my good Lord, I know the gentlemanof To be of worth and worthy eftimation; And, not without defert, fo well reputedYT P well? Duke. You know himyself; Val. I knew him, as myfelf; for from our infancy We have converft, and fpent our hours together And tho myself have Deen an idle truant, mino Omitting the fweet benefit of time, name, To cloathe mine age with angel-like perfection is vad o 1992 Tub BaА Duke. |