Pro. I left them all in health.

[love?

Val. How does your lady? and how thrives your
Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you;
I know you joy not in a love-discourse.

Val. Ay, Protheus, but that life is alter'd now:
I have done penance for contemning love;
Whofe high imperious thoughts have punish'd me
With bitter fafts, with penitential groans;
With nightly tears, and daily heart-fore fighs.
For, in revenge of my contempt of love,

Love hath chas'd fleep from

my enthralled eyes,

And made them watchers of mine own heart's forrow. O gentle Protheus, Love's a mighty lord;

And hath fo humbled me, as, I confefs,

There is no woe to his correction;

Nor to his fervice, no fuch joy on earth;

Now no discourse, except it be of love :

Now can I break my faft, dine, fup, and fleep
Upon the very naked name of Love.

Pro. Enough: I read your fortune in your eye.

Was this the idol that you worship so?

Val. Even fhe; and is she not a heav'nly faint?
Pro. No; but she is an earthly paragon.
Val. Call her divine.

Pro. I will not flatter her.

Val. O flatter me; for love delights in praife. Pro. When I was fick, you gave me bitter pills; And I must minifter the like to you.

Val. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine, Yet let her be a principality,

Sov'reign to all the creatures on the earth.

Pro. Except my mistress.

Val. Sweet, except not any;

Except thou wilt except againft my love.

Pro. Have I not reafon to prefer mine own? Val. And I will help thee to prefer her too: She fhall be dignify'd with this high honour, To bear my lady's train, left the base earth Should from her vefture chance to fteal a kifs And, of fo great a favour growing proud, Difdain to root the fummer-fwelling flower; And make rough winter everlaftingly.

;

Pro. Why, Valentine, what bragadifm is this? Val. Pardon me, Protheus; all I can, is nothing To her, whofe worth makes other worthies nothing; She is alone

Pro. Then let her alone.

Val. Not for the world: why, man, she is mine own; And I as rich in having fuch a jewel,

As twenty feas, if all their fand were pearl,
The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
Forgive me, that I do not dream on thee,
Because thou feeft me doat upon my love.
My foolish rival, that her father likes,
Only for his poffeflions are fo huge,
Is gone with her along, and I muft after ;
For love, thou know'ft, is full of jealoufy.
Pro. But he loves you?

[riage-hour, Val. Ay, and we are betroth'd; nay more, our mar

With all the cunning manner of our flight,
Determin'd of; how I must climb her window,
The ladder made of cords; and all the means
Plotted and 'greed on for my happiness.
Good Protheus, go with me to my chamber,
In thefe affairs to aid me with thy counsel.
Pro. Go on before; I fhall enquire you forth.
I muft unto the road, to difembark

Some neceffaries that I needs must use;

And then I'll presently attend you.
Val. Will you make hafte?

Pro. I will,

Ev'n as one heat another heat expels,

[Exit Val.

Or as one nail by ftrength drives out another;
So the remembrance of my former love
Is by a newer object quite forgotten.
Is it mine eye, or Valentino's praise,
Her true perfection, or my falfe tranfgreffion,
That makes me, reafonless, to reason thus ?
She's fair; and fo is Julia that I love ;
That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd;
Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire,
Bears no impreffion of the thing it was.
Methinks, my zeal to Valentine is cold
And that I love him not as I was wont.

O! but I love his lady too, too, much;
And that's the reafon I love him fo little.
How fhall I doat on her with more advice,
That thus without advice begin to love her?
'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld,
And that has dazzled fo my reafon's light:
But when I look on her perfections,
There is no reafon but I fhall be blind.
If I can check my erring love, I will;
If not, to compass her I'll use

my

fkill.

[Exit.

SCENE VIII. Changes to a freet.
Enter Speed and Launce.

Speed. Launce, by mine honefty, welcome to Milan. Launce. Forfwear not thyfelf, fweet youth; for I am not welcome: I reckon this always, that a man is never undone, till he be hang'd; nor never welcome to a place, till fome certain fhot be paid, and the hoftefs fay, Welcome.

Speed. Come on, you mad-cap; I'll to the ale-house with you presently, where, for one fhot of five pence, thou fhalt have five thousand welcomes. But, Sirrah, how did thy mafter part with Madam Julia ?

Laun. Marry, after they clos'd in earneft, they parted very fairly in jeft.

Speed. But shall she marry him?

Laun. No.

Speed. How then? fhall he marry her?

Laun. No, neither.

Speed. What, are they broken ?

Laun. No, they are both as whole as a fish.

Speed. Why then, how ftands the matter with them? Laun. Marry, thus: when it stands well with him, it ftands well with her *.

it ftands well with her.

Speed. What an afs art thou? I understand thee not.
Laun. What a block art thou, that thou canst not?

My staff understands me.

Speed. What thou say't?

Laun. Ay, And what I do too: look thee, I'll but lean and my ftaff understands me.

Speed It stands under thee indeed.

Laun. Why, ftand under, and understand, is all one.
Speed. But tell me true, &c.

Speed. But tell me true, will 't be a match?

Laun. Afk my dog: if he fay, Ay, it will; if he fay, No, it will; if he fhake his tail, and fay nothing, it will.

Speed. The conclufion is then, that it will.

Laun. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me, but by a parable.

Speed. 'Tis well that I get it fo; but, Launce, how fay'ft thou, that my mafter is become a notable lover? Laun. I never knew him otherwife.

Speed. Than how?

Laun. A notable lubber, as thou reporteft him to be. Speed. Why, thou whorfon ass, thou mistak'ft me. Laun. Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy mafter.

Speed. I tell thee, my mafter is become a hot lover.

Laun. Why, I tell thee, I care not tho' he burn himself in love: if thou wilt go with me to the alehouse, so; if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Chriftian.

Speed. Why?

Laun. Becaufe thou haft not fo much charity in thee, as to go to the ale-house with a Christian: wilt thou

go?

Speed. At thy fervice.

SCENE

[Exeunt.

Pro. To leave my Julia, fhall I be forfworn ;
To love fair Silvia, fhall I be forfworn;
To wrong my friend, I fhall be much forfworn:
And ev❜n that pow'r, which gave me first my oath,
Provokes me to this threefold perjury.

Love bade me fwear, and love bids me forfwear :
O fweet fuggefting love! if I have finn'd,
Teach me, thy tempted fubject, to excufe it.
At first I did adore a twinkling ftar,
But now I worship a celestial fun.

Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken;
And he wants wit, that wants refolved will
To learn his wit t'exchange the bad for better.
Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad,
Whofe fov'reignty fo oft thou haft preferr'd

With twenty thousand foul-confirming oaths.
I cannot leave to love, and yet I do :

But there I leave to love where I fhould love :
Julia I lofe, and Valentine I lofe :

If I keep them, I needs must lose myself :
If I lose them, this find I by their lofs,
For Valentine, myfelf; for Julia, Silvia.
I to myself am dearer than a friend;
For love is ftill moft precious in itself :
And Silvia (witnefs Heav'n, that made her fair!)
Shews Julia but a fwarthy Ethiope.

I will forget that Julia is alive,
Rememb'ring that my love to her is dead :
And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,
Aiming at Silvia as a fweeter friend.

I cannot now prove conftant to myself,
Without fome treachery us'd to Valentine:
This night, he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celeftial Silvia's chamber-window,
Myfelf in counfel his competitor.

Now prefently I'll give her father notice
Of their disguifing, and pretended flight;
Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentine:
For Thurio he intends fhall wed his daughter.
But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross,
By fome fly trick, blunt Thurio's dull proceeding.
Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift,
As thou haft lent me wit to plot this drift!

[Exit. SCENE X. Changes to Julia's houfe in Verona. Enter Julia and Lucetta.

Jul. Counfel, Lucetta; gentle girl, aflift me;
And, even in kind love, I do conjure thee,
Who art the table wherein all my thoughts
Are vifibly character'd and engrav'd,
To leffon me; and tell me fome good mean,
How with my honour I may undertake
A journey to my loving Protheus.

Luc. Alas! the way is wearifome and long.
Ful. A true devoted pilgrim is not weary.
To meafure kingdoms with his feeble fteps;
VOL. I.
N