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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 she better than a jade. Item, She can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands.
Enter Speed. Speed. How now, signior Launce? what news with your mastership?
Laun. With my master's ship? why, it is at sea.
Speed. Well, your old vice still; mistake the word: What news then in your paper ?
Laun. The blackest news, that ever thou heard'st.
Laun. I will try thee: Tell me this: Who begot: thee?
Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather.
Laun. O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy grandmother: this proves, that thou canst not read.
Speed. Come, fool, come: try me in thy paper.
Laun. And thereof comes the proverb, -Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale.
Speed. Item, She can sew.
Laun. That's as much as to say, Can she so ?
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.
Laun. A special virtue; for then she need not be washed and scoured.
Speed. Item, She can spin.
Laun. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living.
Speed. Item, She hath many nameless virtues.
Laun. That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore have no names.
Speed. Here follow her vices.
Speed. Item, She is not to be kissed fasting ; in respect of her breath.
Laun. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast ; Read on.
Speed. Item, She hath a sweet mouth.
Laun. 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 this down among her vices ! To be slow 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 taken from her.
Speed. Item, She hath no teeth.
Laun. I care not for that neither, because I love crusts.
Speed. Item, She is curst.
Laun. If her liquor be good, she 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's slow of: of her purse she shall not; for that I'll keep sbut: now, of another thing she may; and that I cannot help. Well, proceed.
Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.
Laun. Stop there; I'll have her : she was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that last 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 salt, and therefore it is more than the salt; the hair, that covers the wit, is more than the wit; for the greater hides the less. What's next?
Speed. — And more faults than hairs,
Laun. Why, that word makes the faults gracious :
Laun. Why, then I will tell thee,—that thy master stays for thee at the north gate.
Speed. For me?
Laun. For thee? ay; who art thou ? he hath staid for a better man than thee.
Speed. And must I go to him?
Laun. Thou must run to him, for thou hast staid so long, that going will scarce serve the turn.
Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner ? 'pox of your love-letters!
[Erit. Laun. Now will he be swinged for reading my lelter: An unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into secrets !—I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction.
SCENE II.—The same. A Room in the Duke's Palace.
Enter Duke and Thurio; Proteus behind.
Thu. Since his exile she hath despis’d me most,
Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure
Pro. Gone, my good lord.
Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously.
Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so.-
Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your grace,
Duke. Thou know’st, how willingly I would effect The match between sir Thurio and my daughter.
Pro. I do, my lord. ?
Duke. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant How she opposes her against my will.
Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here.
Duke. Ay, and perversely she persévers so. What might we do, to make the girl forget The love of Valentine, and love sir Thurio ?
Pro. The best way is to slander Valentine With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent; Three things that women highly hold in hate.
Duke. Ay, but she'll think, that it is spoken in hate.
Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it:
Duke. Then you must undertake to slander him.
Pro. And that, my lord, I shall be loth to do: 'Tis an ill office for a gentleman ; Especially, against his very friend.
Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage him, Your slander never can endamage him ; Therefore the office is indifferent, Being entreated to it by your friend.