What fay you to a Letter from your Friends

Of much good News?

Val. My Lord, I will be thankful

To any Messenger from thence.

Duke. Know you Don Antonio, 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 Son?

Val. Ay, my good Lord, a Son that well deferves
The Honour and Regard of fuch a Father.
Duke. You know him well?

Val. I knew him as my felf, for from our Infancy.
We have converft, and spent our Hours together:
And tho' my felf have been an idle Truant,
Omitting the fweet Benefit of Time,

To clothe mine Age with Angel-like Perfection;
Yet hath Sir Prothens, for that's his Name,
Made Ufe 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 beftow,
He is compleat in Feature and in Mind,
With all good Grace to grace a Gentleman.

Duke. Befhrew me, Sir, but if he make 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 Commendation from great Potentates;
And here he means to spend his Time a while.
I think 'tis no welcome 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 will 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 lockt in her Chriftal Looks.
Sil. Belike that now the hath enfranchis'd them

Upon fome other Pawn for Fealty.

Val. Nay fure, I think fhe holds them Prifoners 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 your felf: Upon a homely Object Love can wink.

Enter Protheus.

Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the Gentleman. Val. Welcome, dear Protheus: Miftrefs, I befeech you Confirm this Welcome with fome fpecial Favour.

Sil. His Worth is Warrant for his Welcome hither,
If this be he you oft have wifh'd to hear from.
Val. Miftrefs, it is: Sweet Lady, entertain him
To be my Fellow-fervant to your Ladyfhip.
Sil. Too low a Mistress for fo high a Servant.
Pro. Not fo, fweet Lady; but too mean a Servant
To have a Look of fuch a worthy Mistress.
Val. Leave off Difcourfe of Difability:
Sweet Lady entertain him for your Servant.
Pro. My Duty will I boast of, nothing else.
Sil. And Duty never yet did want his Meed:
Servant, you are welcome to a worthless Mistress.
Pro. I'll die on him that fays fo but your felf.

Sil. That you are welcome?

Pro. That you are worthless.

Thu. Madam, my Lord, your Father, would fpeak with you. Sil. I wait upon his Pleafure: Come, Sir Thurio, Go with me. Once more, new Servant, 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 Ladyfhip.

[Ex. Sil. and Thu. 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 yours?

Pro. I left them all in Health.

Val. How does your Lady? and how thrives your Love? 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,
Whose high imperious Thoughts have punish'd me
With bitter Fafts, with penitential Groans,
With nightly Tears and daily heart-fore Sighs:
For in revenge of my Contempt of Love,
Love hath chac'd. Sleep from my enthralled Eyes,
And made them Watchers of mine own Heart's Sorrow.
O gentle Protheus, Love's a mighty Lord,
And hath fo humbled me, as I confefs

There is no Wo to his Correction;

Nor to his Service, no fuch Joy on Earth.
Now no Difcourfe, 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 fo?

Val. Even fhe; and is she not a heav'nly Saint?
Pro. No; but fhe is an earthly Paragon.

Val. Call her divine.

Pro. I will not flatter her.

Val. O flatter me; for Love delights in Praise. Pro. When I was fick you gave me bitter Pills, And I muft minifter the like to you.

Val. Then fpeak the Truth by her: If not divine,
Yet let her be a Principality,

Soveraign to all the Creatures on the Earth.
Pro. Except my Mistress.

Val. Sweet, except not any,

Except thou wilt except against my Love.
Pro. Have I not Reason 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 Vesture chance to steal a Kifs;
And of fo great a Favour growing proud,
Disdain to root the Summer-fwelling Flower,
And make rough Winter everlastingly.

Pro. Why, Valentine, what Bragadism is this?
Val. Pardon me, Protheus; all I can is nothing,
To her, whofe Worth makes other Worthies nothing:
She is alone.

G 3

Pro.

Pro. Then let her alone.

Val. Not for the World: Why, Man, fhe is mine own, And I as rich in having fuch a Jewel,

As twenty Seas, if all their Sand were Pearl,
The Water Nectar, and the Rock 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 Poffeffions are so huge,

Is

gone with her along, and I muft after; For Love, thou know'ft, is full of Jealoufie. Pro. But fhe loves you?

Val. Ay,and we are betrothed; nay more,our Marriage Hour, 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 these Affairs to aid me with thy Counsel.
Pro.. Go on before; I fhall enquire you forth.
I must unto the Road, to disembark
Some Neceffaries that I needs must use,
And then I'll presently attend you.
Val. Will you make hafte?"

Pro. I will.

Even as one Heat another Heat expels,

Or as one Nail by Strength drives out another;
So the Remembrance of my former Love
Is by a newer Object quite forgotten:
Is it mine then, or Valentino's Praise?
Her true Perfection, or my falfe Tranfgreffion,
That makes me reafonlefs, to reason thus?
She is 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 Reason I love him fo little.
How fhall I doat on her with more Advice,

[Exit Val.

That

That thus without Advice begin to love her?
'Tis but her Picture I have yet beheld,
And that hath dazled fo my Reafon's Light:
But when I look on her Perfections,
There is no Reason but I fhall be blind.
If I can check my erring Love, I will;
If not, to compass her I'll use my Skill.

SCENE V.

Enter Speed and Launce.

[Exit.

Speed. Launce, by mine Honefty welcome to Padua. Laun. Forfwear not thy felf, fweet Youth; for I am not welcome: I reckon this always, that a Man is never undone 'till he is hang'd, nor never welcome a to Place, 'till fome certain Shot 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 Shot of five Pence, thou shalt have five thousand Welcomes. But, Sirrah, how did thy Master part with Madam Julia?

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

Speed. But fhall she marry him?

Laun. No.

Speed. How then? Shall he

Laun. No, neither.

marry her?

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 ftands well with him, it

ftands well with her.

Speed. What an Ass art thou? I understand thee not. Laun. What a Block art thou, that thou canst not? My Staff understands me.

Speed. What thou fay'st?

Laun. Ay, and what I do too: Look thee, I'll but lean, and my Staff understands me.

Speed. It ftands under thee indeed.

Laun. Why, ftand-under, and understand is all one.

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