The Key whereof my felf have ever kept;
And thence the cannot be convey'd away.

Pro. Know, noble Lord, they have devis'd a mean
How he her Chamber-Window will afcend,
And with a corded Ladder fetch her down;
For which the youthful Lover now is gone,
And this way comes he with it presently:
Where, if it pleafe you, you may intercept him.
But, good my Lord, do it fo cunningly,
That my Discovery be not aimed at;

For love of you, not hate unto my Friend,
Hath made me Publisher of this Pretence.

Duke. Upon mine Honour, he shall never know
That I had any Light from thee of this.

Pro. Adieu, my Lord; Sir Valentine is coming. [Ex. Pro.
Enter Valentine.

Duke. Sir Valentine, whether away so fast?
Val. Please it your Grace, there is a Meffenger
That ftays to bear my Letters to my Friends,
And I am going to deliver them.

Duke. Be they of much Import?

Val. The Tenure of them doth but fignifie My Health, and happy being at your Court.

Duke. Nay, then no matter; ftay with me a while;
I am to break with thee of fome Affairs

That touch me near; wherein thou must be fecret.
'Tis not unknown to thee, that I have fought
To match my Friend, Sir Thurio, to my Daughter.
Val. I know it well, my Lord, and fure the Match
Were rich and honourable; befides, the Gentleman
Is full of Virtue, Bounty, Worth and Qualities,
Befeeming fuch a Wife as your fair Daughter.
Cannot your Grace win her to fancy him?

Duke. No, truft me, she is peevish, fullen, froward,
Proud, disobedient, ftubborn, lacking Duty,
Neither regarding that the is my Child,
Nor fearing me, as if I were her Father:
And may I fay to thee, this Pride of hers,
Upon advice, hath drawn my Love from her;
And where I thought the Remnant of mine Age
Should have been cherish'd by her Child-like Duty,

Upon fome other Pawn for Fealty.

Val. Nay fure, I think fhe holds them Prifoners ftill. Sil. Nay, then he fhould 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.

you

Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the Gentleman. Val. Welcome, dear Protheus: Miftrefs, I befeech 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 Miftrefs 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 Discourse of Disability: Sweet Lady entertain him for your Servant. Pro. My Duty will I boaft of, nothing else. Sil. And Duty never yet did want his Meed: Servant, you are welcome to a worthlefs Miftrefs. Pro. I'll die on him that fays fo but

Sil. That you are welcome?

Pro. That you are worthless.

your felf.

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 Ladyship.

[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
Pro. My Tales of Love were wont to weary you;

I know you joy not in a Love-discourse.

your Love?

Fal.

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 so 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, sup and sleep
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 the not a heav'nly Saint?
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 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 Vefture chance to fteal a Kifs;
And of fo great a Favour growing proud,
Disdain to root the Summer-fwelling Flower,
And make rough Winter everlaftingly.

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, she 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 fo huge,
Is gone with her along, and I must 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 thefe Affairs to aid me with thy Counsel.
Pro.. Go on before; I fhall enquire you forth.
I muft 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 Reason'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 compafs her I'll ufe my Skill.

SCENE

[Exit.

V.

Enter Speed and Launce.

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 fhalt have five thoufand Welcomes. But, Sirrah, how did thy Mafter part with Madam Julia?

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

Speed. But fhall fhe marry him?

Laun. No.

Speed. How then? Shall he marry her?

Laun. No, neither.

Speed. What, are they broken?

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

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 Afs 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?