SCENE

III.

Laun.

Changes to a street.

Enter Launce, with his dog Crab.

Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done I weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault. I have received my proportion like the prodigious fon, and am going with Sir Protheus to the Imperial's court, I think Crab, my dog, be the fourcft-natur'd dog that lives. My mother weeping, my father wailing, my fifter crying, our maid howling, 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 stone, 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 grandam having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll fhow you the man'ner of it: This fhoe is my father; no, this left shoe is my father: no, no, this left fhoe is my mother; nay, that cannot be so neither: yes, it is fo, it is fo; 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, fhe 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 himfelf; and I am the dog: oh, the < 'dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so.

Now come

now should now fhould Now come I

I to my father: Father, your bleffing: not the fhoe fpeak a word for weeping; I kifs my father; well, he weeps on. ' to my mother; oh that fhe could speak wode woman! well, I kifs her; why there 'tis ; ' here's my mother's breath up and down. Now

now like a

come I to my fifter; mark the moan fhe 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 unkindeft 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 lofe the flood; and in lofing the flood, lofe thy voyage; and in lofing thy voyage, lose thy mafter; and in lofing thy mafter, lofe thy fervice; and in lofing thy fervice,-why doft

thou ftop my mouth?

Laun. For fear thou should'ft lofe thy tongue.
Pant. Where fhould I lofe my tongue?

Laun. In thy tale.

Pant. In thy tail?.

if

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; the wind were down, I could drive the boat with my fighs.

Pant. Come, come away, man; I was fent to call thee. Laun. Sir, call me what thou dar'ft.

Pant. Wilt thou go?

: Laun. Well, I will go.

SCENE IV.

[Exeunt.

Changes to Milan.

An apartment in the Duke's palace.

Enter Valentine, Silvia, Thurio, and Speed.

Sil. Servant,

Val. Miftrefs?

Speed. Mafter, Sir Thurio frowns on you.

Val. Ay, boy, it's for love.

Speed. Not of you.

Val. Of my mistress then

Speed. "Twere good you knock'd m

Sil. Servant, you are fad.

Val. Indeed, Madam, I feem. fo..
Thu. Seem you that you are not
Val. Haply I do.

Thu. So do counterfeits.

Val. So do you.

Thu. What feem I that I am not?

Val. Wife.

Thu. What inftance 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, I'll 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 faid, 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 fhot off.

Val. 'Tis indeed, Madam; we thank the giver.
Sil. Who is that, fervant?

Val. Yourself, fweet Lady; for you gave the fire: Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your Ladyfhip's looks, and spends, what he borrows, kindly in your company.

Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I fhall 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.

SCENE

V.

Enter the Duke.

Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard befet. Sir Valentine, your father's in good health: What fay you to a letter from your friends

Of much good news?

Val. My Lord, I will be thankful To any happy meffenger from thence.

Duke. Know you Don Anthonio, your countryman? Val. Ay, my good Lord, I know the gentleman To be of worth and worthy eftimation;

And, not without defert, fo well reputed.

Duke. Hath he not a fon?

Val. Ay, my good Lord, a fon that well deferves The honour and regard of fuch a father.

Duke. You know him well?

Val. I knew him as myfelf; for from our infancy We have convers'd, and fpent our hours together: And though myself have been an idle truant, Omitting the fweet benefit of time,

To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection;
Yet hath Sir Protheus, 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 compleat in feature and in mind,
With all good grace to grace a gentleman.

Duke. Befhrew me, Sir; but if he makes this good,
He is as worthy for an Emprefs' love,
As meet to be an Emperor's counsellor.
Well, Sir, this gentleman is come to me,
With commendations 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 fpeak to you; and you, Sir Thurio; For Valentine, I need not cite him to it: I'll fend him hither to you presently.

[Exit Duke.

Val. This is the gentleman, I told your Ladyship,

Had come along with me, but that his mistress
Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks.

Sil, Belike that now fhe hath enfranchis'd them
Upon fome other pawn for fealty.

Val. Nay, fure, I think fhe holds them pris'ners ftill, Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind, How could he fee his way to feek out you?

Val. Why, Lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes.

Thu. They fay that love hath not an eye at all. Val. To fee fuch lovers, Thurio, as yourself: Upon a homely object love can wink.

SCENE VI.

Sil. Have done, have done

man.

Enter Protheus.

here comes the gentle

Val. Welcome, dear Protheus: Mistress, I beseech

you,

Confirm his welcome with some special favour.
Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,
If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from.
Val. Miftrefs, it is: fweet Lady, entertain him
To be my fellow-fervant to your Ladyship.

Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a fervant.
Pro. Not fo, fweet Lady; but too mean a fervant
To have a look of fuch a worthy mistress.
Val. Leave off discourse of disability;
Sweet Lady, entertain him for your fervant.
Pro. My duty will I boaft of, nothing else.
Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed:
Şervant, you're welcome to a worthlefs mistress.
Pro. I'll die on him that fays fo, but yourself.
Sil. That you are welcome?

Pro. That you are worthless.

Enter Servant,

Serv. Madam, my Lord your father would speak with you.

Sil. I'll wait upon his pleasure: [Exit Serv.] Come, Sir Thurio,

Go with me.

Once more, my new fervant, welcome :

I'll leave you to confer of home affairs;

When you have done, we look to hear from you.

Pro. We'll both attend upon your Ladyship.

SCENE

[Exeunt Sil, and Thu

VII.

Val. Now tell me, how do all from whence you came ?

Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much

commended.

Val. And how do your's?