Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears,
Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire;
But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die.
Besides, her intercession chaf'd him so,
When she for thy repeal was suppliant,
That to close prison he commanded her,
With many bitter threats of 'biding there.

Val. No more; unless the next word that tho
speak'st,

Have some malignant power upon my 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 can'st not help,
And study help for that which thou lament'st.
Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
Here if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love;
Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.
Hope is a lover's staff'; walk hence with that,
And manage it against despairing thoughts.
Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence :
Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver'd
Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.
The time now serves not to expostulate:
Come, I'll convey thee through the city gate;
And, ere I part with thee, confer at large
Of all that may concern thy love-affairs:
As thou lov'st Silvia, though not for thyself,
Regard thy danger, and along with me.

Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy, Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north-gate. Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine. Val. O my dear Silvia, hapless Valentine!

[Exeunt VALENTINE and PROTEUS. Laun. I am but a fool, look you ; and yet I have the wit to think, my master is a kind of 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 that woman, I will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milkmaid; yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips: yet 'tis a maid, for she 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 etch, 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.
Speed. Why, man, how black?
Laun. Why as black as ink.
Speed. Let me read them.

Laun. Fye on thee, jolt-head; thou canst not read.
Speed. Thou liest, I can.

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. There; and St. Nicholas be thy speed!

Speed. Imprimis, She can milk. Laun. Ay, that she can.

Speed. Item, She brews good ale.

Laun. And thereof comes the proverb, -- Bles ing of your heart, you brew good ale. Speed. Item, She can sew.

Laun. That's as much as to say, can she so?

Speed. Item, She can knit.

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.

Laun. Close at the heels of her virtues.

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. That makes amends for her sour breath.

Speed. Item, She doth talk in her sleep.

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 ta'en 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. Well; the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. Speed. She will often praise her liquor.

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 is slow of: of her purse she shall not; for that I'll keep shut: 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. 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 leners! [Erit. Laun. Now will he be swinged for reading my letter: An unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into secrets! — I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's [Exit. - The same. A Room in the Duke's Palace.

correction.

SCENE II.

Enter DUKE and THURIO; PROTEUS behind. Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not, but that she will love you, Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight.

Thu. Since his exíle she hath despis'd me most, Forsworn my company, and rail'd at me, That I am desperate of obtaining her.

Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure Trenched in ice; which with an hour's heat Dissolves to water, and doth lose his form. A little time will melt her frozen thoughts, And worthless Valentine shall be forgot. How now, sir Proteus? Is your countryman, According to our proclamation, gone?

Pro. Gone, my good lord.

Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously. Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief. Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so.Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee, (For thou hast shown some sign of good desert,) Makes me the better to confer with thee.

Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your grace, Let me not live to look upon 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 falshood, cowardice, and poor descent; Three things that women highly hold in hate. Duke. Ay, but she'll think, that it is spoke in hate. Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it: Therefore it must, with circumstance, be spoken By one, whom she esteemeth as his friend.

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.

SCENE I. - A Forest, near Mantua.

Enter certain Out-laws. 1 Out. Fellows, stand fast; I see a passenger. 2 Out. If there be ten, shrink not, but down

with 'em.

Enter VALENTINE and SPEED. 3 Out. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have

about you ;

That they may hold excus'd our lawless lives.)
And, partly, seeing you are beautified.
With goodly shape ; and by your own repert
A linguist; and a man of such perfection,
As we do in our quality much want;-

2 Out. Indeed, because you are a banish'd man, Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you : Are you content to be our general ? To make a virtue of necessity, And live, as we do, in this wilderness? 3 Out. What say’st thou ? wilt thou be of oui

consórt?
Say, ay, and be the captain of us all :
We'll do thee homage, and be rul’d by thee,
Love thee as our commander, and our king.

1 Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. 2 Out. Thou shalt not live to brag what we have

offer'd. Val. I take your offer, and will live with you; Provided that

you

do no outrages On silly women, or poor passengers.

3 Out. No, we detest such vile base practices. Come, go with us, we'll bring thee to our crews, And shew thee all the treasure we have got; Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose.

(Ereviu

If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you.

Speed. Sir, we are undone! these are the villains That all the travellers do fear so much.

Val. My friends, 1 Out. That's not so, sir ; we are your enemies. 2 Out. Peace; we'll hear him.

3 Out. Ay, by my beard, will we; For he's a proper man. Val. Then know, that I have little wealth to

lose ;
A man I am, crossed with adversity :
My riches are these poor habiliments,
Of which if you should here disfurnish me,
You take the sum and substance that I have.

2 Out. Whither travel you ?
Val. To Verona.
1 Out. Whence came you?
Val. From Milan.
3 Out. Have you long sojourn’d there?
Val. Some sixteen months; and longer might

have staid, If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.

1 Out. What, were you banish'd thence?
Val. I was.
2 Out. For what offence ?
Val. For that which now torments me to re-

bearse :
I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent ;
But yet I slew him manfully in fight,
Without false vantage, or base treachery.

1 Out. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so: But were you banish'd for so small a fault?

Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doom. 1 Out. Have you the tongues ?

Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy; Or else I often had been miserable. 3 Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat

friar, This fellow were a king for our wild faction.

1 Out. We'll have him ; sirs, a word. Speed.

Master, be one of them; It is an honourable kind of thievery.

Val. Peace, villain !
2 Out. Tell us this: Have you any thing to take to?
Val. Nothing, but my fortune.
3 Out. Know then, that some of us are gentle-

men,
Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth
Thrust from the company of awful men:
Myself was from Verona banish’d,
For practising to steal away a lady,
An heir, and near allied unto the duke.

2 Cut. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Whom, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart.

1 Out. And I, for such like petty crimes as these. But to the purpose, -(for we cite our faults,

SCENE II. - Milan. Court of the Palace.

Enter PROTEUS.
Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine.
And now I must be as unjust to Thurio.
Under the colour of commending him,
I have access my own love to prefer ;
But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy,
To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.
When I protest true loyalty to her,
She twits me with my falshood to my friend :
When to her beauty I commend my vows,
She bids me think, how I have been forsworn
In breaking faith with Julia whom I lov’d:
And, notwithstanding all her sudden quips,
The least whereof would quell a lover's hope,
Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love,
The more it grows, and fawneth on her still.
But here comes Thurio: now must we to her window,
And give some evening musick to her ear.

Enter Thurio and Musicians.
Thu. How now, sir Proteus ? are you crept be-

fore us ? Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio; for, you know, that

love
Will creep in service where it cannot go.

Thu. Ay, but, I hope, sir, that you love not here.
Pro. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence.
Thu. Whom? Silvia ?
Pro. Ay, Silvia, — for your sake.

Thu. I thank you for your own. Now, gentlema,
Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile.
Enter Host, at a distance; and Julia in boy's clothes.

Host. Now, my young guest! methinks you're allycholly ; I pray you, why is it?

Jul. Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry. Host. Come, we'll have you merry: I'll bring you

where you shall hear musick, and see the gentleman that you ask'd for.

Jul. But shall I hear him speak?
Host. Ay, that you shall.

Jul. That will be musick.
Host. Hark! hark!

Jul. Is he among these?

Host. Ay: but peace, let's hear 'em.

That all our swains commend her?

Holy, fair, and wise is she,

The heavens such grace did lend her,
That she might admired be.

Is she kind, as she is fair?

For beauty lives with kindness :
Love doth to her
eyes repair,

To help him of his blindness;
And, being help'd, inhabits there.

Then to Silvia let us sing,

That Silvia is excelling;

She excels each mortal thing,

Upon the dull earth dwelling:

To her let us garlands bring.

Host. How now? are you sadder than you were before?

How do you, man? the musick likes you not.
Jul. You mistake; the musician likes me not.
Host. Why, my pretty youth?
Jul. He plays false, father.

Host. How? out of tune on the strings?

al. Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my very heart-strings.

Host. You have a quick ear.

Jul. Ay, I would I were deaf! it makes me have a slow heart.

Host. I perceive, you delight not in musick.
Jul. Not a whit, when it jars so.

Host. Hark, what fine change is in the musick!
Jul. Ay; that change is the spite.

Host. You would have them always play but one thing?

Jul. I would always have one play but one thing. But, host, doth this sir Proteus, that we talk on, often resort unto this gentlewoman?

Host. I tell you what Launce, his man, told me, he loved her out of all nick.

Jul. Where is Launce?

Host. Gone to seek his dog; which, to-morrow, by his master's command, he must carry for a present to his lady.

Jul. Peace! stand aside! the company parts.
Pro. Sir Thurio, fear not you! I will so plead,
That you shall say, my cunning drift excels.
Thu. Where meet we?

Pro. At saint Gregory's well.
Thu. Farewell. [Exeunt THURIO and Musicians.

SILVIA appears above, at her window.

Pro. Madam, good even to your ladyship. Sil. I thank you for your musick, gentlemen: Who is that, that spake?

Pro. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth, You'd quickly learn to know him by his voice. Sil. Sir Proteus, as I take it.

Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. Sil. What is your will?

--

That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows?
Return, return, and make thy love amends.
For me,―by this pale queen of night I swear,
I am so far from granting thy request,
That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit;
And by and by intend to chide myself,
Even for this time I spend in talking to thee.
Pro. I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady ;
But she is dead.

Jul. 'Twere false, if I should speak it;
For, I am sure, she is not buried.

Aside

Sil. Say, that she be; yet Valentine, thy friend, Survives; to whom, thyself art witness,

I am betroth'd: And art thou not asham'd

To wrong him with thy importúnacy?

Pro. I likewise hear, that Valentine is dead. Sil. And so, suppose, am I; for in his grave Assure thyself, my love is buried.

Pro. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth. Sil. Go to thy lady's grave, and call her's thence; Or, at the least, in her's sepulchre thine.

SILVIA appears above, at her window.
Who calls?

Your servant, and your nieno
One that attends your ladyship's command.
Sil. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good-morrow
Egl. As many, worthy lady, to yourself.
According to your ladyship's impose,

I am thus early come, to know what service It is your pleasure to command me in.

Sil. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman, (Think not, I flatter, for, I swear, I do not,) Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplish'd. Thou art not ignorant, what dear good will I bear unto the banish'd Valentine; Nor how my father would enforce me marry Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhorr'd. Thyself hast loved; and I have heard thee say, No grief did ever come so near thy heart, As when thy lady and thy true love died, Upon whose grave thou vow'dst pure chastity. Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine, To Mantua, where, I hear, he makes abode; And, for the ways are dangerous to pass, I do desire thy worthy company, Upon whose faith and honour I repose. Urge not my father's anger, Eglamour, But think upon my grief, a lady's grief; And on the justice of my flying hence, To keep me from a most unholy match,

You do

whip the dog? Ay, marry, do I, quoth he. him the more wrong, quoth I; 'twas I did the thing you wot of. He makes me no more ado, but whips me out of the chamber. How many masters would do this for their servant? Nay, I'll be sworn, i have sat in the stocks for puddings he hath stolen. otherwise he had been executed: I have stood on the pillory for geese he hath killed, otherwise he had suffered for't: thou think'st not of this now! - Nay, I remember the trick you served me, when I took my leave of madam Silvia; did not I bid thee still mark me, and do as I do? When did'st thou see me heave up my leg, and make water against a gentlewoman's farthingale? didst thou ever see me do such a trick?

Enter PROTEUS and JULIA.

Pro. Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well, And will employ thee in some service presently. Jul. In what you please; I will do what I can. Pro. I hope, thou wilt. son peasant?

How now, you whore

[To LAUNCE

I do desire thee, even from a heart
As full of sorrows as the sea of sands,
To bear me company, and go with me:
If not, to hide what I have said to thee,
That I may venture to depart alone.

Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances;
Which since I know they virtuously are plac'd,
I give consent to go along with you;
Recking as little what betideth me

As much I wish all good befortune you.
When will you go?

Sil.

This evening coming.

Egl. Where shall I meet you?

Sil.

At friar Patrick's cell,

:

When a man's servant shall play the cur with him, look you, it goes hard one that I brought up of a puppy; one that I saved from drowning, when three or four of his blind brothers and sisters went to it! I have taught him-even as one would say precisely, Thus I would teach a dog. I was sent to deliver him, as a present to mistress Silvia, from my master; and I came no sooner into the diningchamber, but he steps me to her trencher, and steals her capon's leg. O, 'tis a foul thing when a cur cannot keep himself in all companies! I would have, as one should say, one that takes upon him to be a dog indeed, to be, as it were, a dog at all things. If I had not had more wit than he, to take a fault upon me that he did, I think verily he had been hanged for't; sure as I live he had suffered for't: you shall judge. He thrusts me himself into the company of three or four gentleman-like dogs, under the duke's table: he had not been there (bless the mark) a pissing while; but all the chamber smelt him. Out with the dog, says one; What cur is that? says another; Whip him out, says a third; Hang him up, says the duke. I, having been acquainted with the smell before, knew it was Crab; and goes me to the fellow that whips the dogs: Friend, quoth I, you mean to

Laun. Marry, sir, I carried mistress Silvia the dog you bade me.

Pro. And what says she to my little jewel? Laun. Marry, she says, your dog was a cur; and tells you, currish thanks is good enough for such a present.

Pro. But she received my dog?

Laun. No, indeed, she did not here have I brought him back again.

Pro. What, didst thou offer her this from me? Laun. Ay, sir; the other squirrel was stolen from me by the hangman's boys in the market-place: and then I offered her mine own; who is a dog as big as ten of yours, and therefore the gift the greater. Pro. Go, get thee hence, and find my dog again, Or ne'er return again into my sight.

Away, I say: Stay'st thou to vex me here?
A slave, that, still an end, turns me to shame.
[Exit LAUNCE

Sebastian, I have entertained thee,
Partly, that I have need of such a youth,
That can with some discretion do my business,
For 'tis no trusting to yon foolish lowt;
But, chiefly, for thy face, and thy behaviour;
Which (if my augury deceive me not)
Witness good bringing up, fortune, and truth:
Therefore know thou, for this I entertain thee.
Go presently, and take this ring with thee,
Deliver it to madam Silvia :

She loved me well, deliver'd it to me.
Jul. It seems, you loved her not, to leave her

Pro. Why dost thou cry, alas!

Jul. I cannot choose but pity her? Pro. Wherefore should'st thou pity her? Jul. Because, methinks, that she loved you as well As you do love your lady Silvia : She dreams on him, that has forgot her love; You dote on her, that cares not for your love. 'Tis pity, love should be so contrary; And thinking on it makes me cry, alas! Pro. Well, give her that ring, and therewithal This letter; - that's her chamber. - Tell my lady, I claim the promise for her heavenly picture.