Which was to please: Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;
And my ending is despair,
Unlesss I be reliev'd by prayer;

Which pierces so, that it assaults
Mercy itself, and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
Let your indulgence set me free!

DUKE OF MILAN, father to Silvia.

PALENTINE, gentlemen of Verona.

ANTONIO, father to Proteus.
THURIO, a foolish rival to Valentine.
EGLAMOUR, agent for Silvia, in her escape.
SPEED, a clownish servant to Valentine.

LAUNCE, servant to Proteus.

ACT I.

SCENE I. - An open place in Verona. Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS. Val. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus! Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits: Wer't not, affection chains thy tender days To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love, I rather would entreat thy company, To see the wonders of the world abroad, Than, living dully sluggardiz'd at home, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness. But, since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein, Even as I would, when I to love begin.

Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu! Think on thy Proteus, when thou, haply, scest Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel! Wish me partaker in thy happiness,

When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger,
If ever danger do environ thee,

Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers!
For I will be thy bead's-man, Valentine!

Val. And on a love-book pray for my success!
Pro. Upon some book, I'll love, I'll pray for thee.
Val. That's on some shallow story of deep love,
How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont.
Pro. That's a deep story of a deeper love;
For he was more than over shoes in love.

Val. "Tis true; for you are over boots in love, And yet you never swom the Hellespont.

Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots! Val. No, I'll not, for it boots thee not.

Pro. What?

Val. To be

In love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks,
With heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth,
With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights:
If haply won, perhaps, a hapless gain;
If lost, why then a grievous labour won;
However, but a folly bought with wit,
Or else a wit by folly vanquished.

Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool.
Val. So, by your circumstance, I fear, you'll prove.
Pro. "Tis love you cavil at ; I am not Love.

Val. Love is your master, for he masters you :

And he, that is so yoked by a fool,

Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise.
Pro. Yet writers say, As in the sweetest bud
The eating canker dwells, so eating love
Inhabits in the finest wits of all.

Val. And writers say, As the most forward bud
Is eaten by the canker, ere it blow,
Even so by love the young and tender wit
Is turn'd to folly; blasting in the bud,
Losing his verdure even in the prime,
And all the fair effects of future hopes.
But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee,
That art a votary to fond desire?

Once more adieu! my father at the road
Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd.
Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.
Val. Sweet Proteus, no! now let us take our leave.

At Milan, let me hear from thee by letters,
Of thy success in love, and what news else
Betideth here, in absence of thy friend;
And I lik ewise will visit thee with mine.
Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan!
Val. As much to you at home! and so, farewell!

[Exit Valentine.

Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love;
He leaves his friends, to dignify them more;
I leave myself, my friends, and all for love.
Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphos'd me,
Made me neglect my studies, lose my time,
War with good counsel, set the world at nought;
Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought.

Enter SPEED.

Jul. Why didst thou stoop, then ?

Luc. To take a paper up, that I let fall.

Jul. 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.

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, yourson. 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.

Jul. And why not you?

Luc. I cannot reach so high.

Jul. Let's see your song! - 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.

[Tears the letter.

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 best

pleas'd

To bes

[Exit.

be so anger'd with another letter. 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! I'll kiss each several paper for amends.

And here is writ - kind Julia; - unkind Julia!

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 thon much importune me to that,
Whereon this month I have been hammering.
I have considered well his loss of time,
And how he cannot be a perfectman,
Not being try'd and tutor'd in the world:
Experience is by industry atchiev'd,
And perfected by the swift course of time:
Then, tell me, whether 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 execution

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 명: And, in good time, - now will we break with him.

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 commendation sent from Valentine,
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 beloved,

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;

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 Ant. and Pant.
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 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 resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day;
Which now shews all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away!

voured.

Val. I mean, that her beauty is exquisite, but her favourinfinite.

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 esteemest thou me? I account of her beauty. Speed. You never saw her since she was deformed. Val. How long hath she been deformed?

Speed. Ever since you lov'd her.

Val. I have lov'd 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 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

one.

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 lovesong, like a Robin-redbreast; to walk alone, like one that hath 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 Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laughed, 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 metamorphos'd 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. 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

Val. Madam and mistress, a thousandgood-morrows. Speed. O, 'give you good even! here's a million of manners.

[Aside. Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand. Speed. He should give her interest; and she gives it him.

[Aside.

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 yettake 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 likeit?
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. 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; [Exit Silvia.

And so good-morrow, servant!

Speed. O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible,

As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a

I

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 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 mannerofit: This shoe is my father; -no, this leftshoe is my father; no, no, this left shoe is my mother; nay, that cannot be so neither; - yes, it is so, it is so;

Val. Why, she hath not writ to me?

it hath the worser sole: This shoe, with the hole in it,

to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest?

there'tis: now, sir, this staff is my sister; for, look

Val. No, believe me.

you, she is as white as a lily, and as small as a wand:

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.

is himself, and I am the dog : - O, 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,

could speak now!) like a wood 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.

discover,

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 will lose the tide, if you tarry any longer.

Herself 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 nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat. O, be not like your mistress; be moved, be moved!

[Exeunt.

Laun. It is no matter, if the ty'd were lost; for it is the unkindest ty'd, that ever any man ty'd. Pant. What's the unkindest tide?

Laun. Why, he that's ty'd 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?

Laun. For fear, thou should'st lose thy tongue.
Pant. Where should I lose my tongue?
Laun. In thy tale.

Pant. In thy tail?

Laun. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service? 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.

Pant. Come, come away, man. I was sent to call thee.