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Speed. Why then, my horns are his horns, whether
I wake or sleep.

Pro. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep.
Speed. This proves me still a sheep.

Pro. True, and thy master a shepherd.
Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance.
Pro. It shall go hard, but I'll prove it by another.
Speed. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the
sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and my
master seeks not me: therefore, I am no sheep.

Pro. The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd, the shepherd for food follows not the sheep; thou for wages followest thy master, thy master for wages follows not thee: therefore, thou art a sheep.

Speed. Such another proof will make me cry "baa." Pro. But, dost thou hear? gav'st thou my letter to Julia?

Speed. Ay, sir: I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, a laced mutton; and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a lost mutton, nothing for my labour.

Pro. Here's too small a pasture for such store of

muttons.

Speed. If the ground be overcharg'd, you were best stick her.

Pro. Nay, in that you are a stray, 'twere best pound you.

Speed. Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your letter.

Pro. You mistake: I mean the pound, the pinfold. Speed. From a pound to a pin? fold it over and over, 'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover.

Pro. But what said she? did she nod?
Speed. I.

[SPEED nods.

Pro. Nod, I? why that's noddy. Speed. You mistook, sir: I say she did nod, and you ask me, if she did nod? and Í say I.

Pro. And that set together, is noddy.

Speed. Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for your pains.

Pro. No, no; you shall have it for bearing the letter. Speed. Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you.

Pro. Why, sir, how do you bear with me?
Speed. Marry, sir, the letter very orderly; having
nothing but the word noddy for my pains.

Pro. Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit.
Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse.
Pro. Come, come; open the matter in brief: what

said she?

Speed. Open your purse, that the money, and the matter, may be both at once deliver'd.

Pro. Well, sir, here is for your pains. What said
she?
[Giving him money.
Speed. Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her.
Pro. Why? Couldst thou perceive so much from her?
Speed. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her
better;

No, not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter;
And being so hard to me that brought to her your mind,
I fear she'll prove as hard to you in telling you
her
mind.
Give her no token but stones, for she's as hard as steel.
Pro. What! said she nothing?

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According to my shallow simple skill.

Jul. What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour?
Luc. As of a knight well-spoken, neat and fine;
But, were I you, he never should be mine.

Jul. What think'st thou of the rich Mercutio?
Luc. Well, of his wealth; but of himself, so, so.
Jul. What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus?
Luc. Lord, lord! to see what folly reigns in us!
Jul. How now! what means this passion at his name?
Luc. Pardon, dear madam: 'tis a passing shame,
That I, unworthy body as I am,

Should censure thus a loving gentleman.

Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest?
Luc. Then thus,-of many good I think him best.
Jul. Your reason?

Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason:
I think him so, because I think him so.
Jul. And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him?
Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.
Jul. Why, he, of all the rest, hath never mov'd me.
Luc. Yet he, of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.
Jul. His little speaking shows his love but small.
Luc. Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.
Jul. They do not love, that do not show their love.
Luc. O! they love least, that let men know their love.
Jul. I would I knew his mind.
Luc.
Peruse this paper, madam.
Jul. "To Julia." Say, from whom? [Gives a letter.
Luc.
That the contents will show.
Jul. Say, say, who gave it thee?
Luc. Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from

Proteus.

He would have given it you, but I, being in the way,
Did in your name receive it: pardon the fault, I pray.
Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker!
Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines?
To whisper and conspire against my youth?
Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth,
And you an officer fit for the place.
There, take the paper: see it be return'd, [ Gives it back.
Or else return no more into my sight.
Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.
Jul. Will you be gone?

Luc.
That you may ruminate. [Exit.
Jul. And yet, I would I had o'erlook'd the letter.
It were a shame to call her back again,
And pray her to a fault for which I chid her.
What fool is she, that knows I am a maid,
And would not force the letter to my view,
Since maids, in modesty, say "No," to that
Which they would have the profferer construe, "Ay."
Fie, fie! how wayward is this foolish love,
That like a testy babe will scratch the nurse,
Pro. Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wreck, | And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod.

Speed. No, not so much as "take this for thy pains." To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testern'd me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself. And so, sir, I'll commend you to my master.

[Exit.

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What would your ladyship?
Jul. Is it near dinner-time?
Luc.
I would, it were;
That you might kill your stomach on your meat,
And not upon your maid.

[Drops the letter, and takes it up again.
Jul. What is't that you took up so gingerly?
Luc. Nothing.

Jul. Why didst thou stoop, then?
Luc.

That I let fall.

Jul.

Except mine own name; that some whirlwind bear
Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock,
And throw it thence into the raging sea.
Lo! here in one line is his name twice writ,-
"Poor forlorn Proteus; passionate Proteus
To the sweet Julia:"-that I'll tear away;
And yet I will not, sith so prettily

He couples it to his complaining name.
Thus will I fold them one upon another:
Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.
Re-enter LUCETTA.

Luc. Madam,

Dinner is ready, and your father stays.

Jul. Well, let us go.

Luc. What! shall these papers lie like tell-tales here?
Jul. If you respect them, best to take them up.
Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down;
To take a paper up Yet here they shall not lie for catching cold.

And is that paper nothing?

Luc. Nothing concerning me.

Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns.
Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns,
Unless it have a false interpreter.

Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme.
Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune,
Give me a note: your ladyship can set.

Jul. As little by such toys as may be possible.
Best sing it to the tune of "Light o' love."
Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune.

Jul. Heavy? belike, it hath some burden then.
Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it.
Jul. And why not you?

Luc.

I cannot reach so high.
Jul. Let's see your song.-[Snatching the letter.]
How now, minion!

Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out:
And yet, methinks, I do not like this tune.
Jul. You do not?

Luc.

No, madam; it is too sharp.
Jul. You, minion, are too saucy.
Luc.
Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant:
There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.
Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base.
Luc. Indeed I bid the base for Proteus.

Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.
Here is a coil with protestation!-

Jul. I see, you have a month's mind unto them.
Luc. Ay, madam, you may see what sights you think;
I see things too, although you judge I wink.
Jul. Come, come; will't please you go? [Exeunt.
SCENE III.-The Same. A Room in ANTONIO'S
House.

Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO.

Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that, Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pant. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. Ant. Why, what of him?

Pant.

He wonder'd, that your lordship
Would suffer him to spend his youth at home,
While other men, of slender reputation,
Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:
Some to the wars, to try their fortune there;
Some, to discover islands far away;
Some, to the studious universities.
For any, or for all these exercises,
He said, that Proteus, your son, was meet,
And did request me to importune you
To let him spend his time no more at home,
Which would be great impeachment to his age,
In having known no travel in his youth.

Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that
Whereon this month I have been hammering.

I have consider'd well his loss of time,
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being tried and tutor'd in the world:

[Tears the letter, and throws it down. Experience is by industry achiev'd,

Go; get you gone, and let the papers lie:
You would be fingering them to anger me.

Luc. She makes it strange, but she would be pleas'd
better

To be so anger'd with another letter.

[Exit.

Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same!
O hateful hands! to tear such loving words:
Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey,

And kill the bees that yield it with your stings!
Ill kiss each several paper for amends.

Look, here is writ-"kind Julia;”—unkind Julia!
As in revenge of thy ingratitude,

I throw thy name against the bruising stones,
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.
And here is writ-love-wounded Proteus."-
Poor wounded name! my bosom, as a bed,

Shall lodge thee, till thy wound be throughly heal'd;
And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.

But twice, or thrice, was Proteus written down:

Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away,

T I have found each letter in the letter,

And perfected by the swift course of time.
Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him?
Pant. I think, your lordship is not ignorant
How his companion, youthful Valentine,
Attends the emperor in his royal court.
Ant. I know it well.

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 advis'd; 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 dispatch him to the emperor's court.

Pant. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso, 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. Enter PROTEUS, not seeing his Father. Pro. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart;

[Kissing a letter.

Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn.
O! that our fathers would applaud our loves,
And 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, [Putting it up. Deliver'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 Valentino in the emperor's court:

What maintenance he from his friends receives,
Like exhibition 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 employ'd To hasten on his expedition.

[Exeunt ANTONIO and PANTHINO. Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire for fear of burning, And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd. I fear'd to show 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 resembleth

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.

ACT II.

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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 learn'd, like sir Proteus, to wreath your arms, like a mal-content; to relish a love song, like a robin-redbreast; to walk alone, like one that hath the pestilence; to sigh, like a schoolboy that hath lost his A B C; to weep, like a young wench that hath buried her grandam ; to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one that fears robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laugh'd, to crow like a cock; when you walk'd, to walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you look'd sadly, it was for want of money; and now you are so 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 ye.
Val. Without me? they cannot.

Speed. Without you? nay, that's certain; for, without you were so simple, none else would be: 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.

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

I

Speed. You never saw her since she was deform'd.
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 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.

Fal 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

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Speed. O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet! Now will he interpret to her.

manners.

Val. Madam and mistress, a thousand good morrows. Speed. O! 'give ye good even: here's a million of [Aside. Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand. 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. [Giving a paper. 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. Nav, take them.

Val. Madam, they are for you.

[Giving it back.

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

And, if it please you, so; if not, why, so.
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.

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?

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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 you perceive her earnest?

Val. She gave me none, except an angry word.
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.

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,

Her self hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover.

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

Val. I have dined.

Speed. Ay, but hearken, sir: though the cameleon love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourish'd by my victuals, and would fain have 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. Pro. Why then, we'll make exchange: here, take you this. [Exchange rings.

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. Julia, farewell.-What! gone without a word?

Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak;

For truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace it.

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Val. So do you.

natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, 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 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 father. 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,-0! 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, (O, that she could speak now!) like a wild 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 should'st lose thy tongue.
Pant. Where should I lose my tongue?
Launce. In thy tale.

Pant. In thy tail?

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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, 'twill double your folly.
Thu. How?

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.

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?

Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire. Sir 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 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 wealth, 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 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:

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