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 sluggardized at home, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness. But, since thou lovest, 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, seest
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 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 shees in love.
Val. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love,
And yet you never swam 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. Love is your master, for he masters you; And he that is so yoked by a fool, Methinks should not be clironicled 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 adien: my father at the road Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd.

Pro. And thither will I bring diee, 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 likewise 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 diguify them more; I leave myself, my friends, and all for love. Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphosed me; Made me neglect my studies, lose my time, War with good counsel, set the world at noug. Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought.

Enter SPEED.

Speed. Sir Proteus, save you; Saw you my mas

ter?

Pro. But now he parted hence to embark for Milan. Speed. Twenty to one then, he is shipp'd already; And I have play'd the sheep, in losing him.

Pro. Indeed a sheep doth very often stray, And if the shepherd be awhile away. Speed. You conclude that my master is a shepherd then, and I a sheep?

Pro. I do.
Speed. Why then my horns are his horns, whe-
ther I wake or sleep.

Pro. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep.
Speed. This proves me still a sheep.
Pro. True; and thy master a shepherd.

Spsed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance. Pro. It shall go hard, but I'll prove it by another. Speed. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd; but I se k my master, and my master seeks not me: therefore I am no sheep.

Pro. The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd, the shepherd for food follows not the sheep; thou for wages followest thy master, thy master for wages follows not thee: therefore, thou art a sheep.

Speed. Such another proof will make me cry baa. Pro. But dost thou hear? Gavest thou my letter to Julia?

Speed. Ay, Sir: I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, a laced mutton: and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a lost mutton, nothing for my labour.

Pro. Here's too small a pasture for such a store of muttons.

Speed. If the ground be overcharged, you were best stick her.

Pro. Nay, in that you're astray; 'twere best pound you.

Speed. Nay, Sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your letter.

Pro. You mistake; I mean the pound, a pinfold.
Pro. From a pound to a pin? Fold it over and

Pro. Nod, I? Why, that's noddy +. Speed. You mistook, Sir; I say, she did nod: and you ask me, if she did nod; and I say, I.

Pro. And that set together, is-noddy.

Speed. Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for your pains.

Pro. No, no, you shall have it for bearing the letter.

Speed. Well, I perceive, I must be fain to bear with you.

Pro. Why, why, Sir, how do you bear with me? Speed. Marry, Sir, the letter very orderly; having nothing but the word, noddy, for my pains. Pro. Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit. Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse. Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief: What said she?

Speed. Open your purse, that the money, and the matter, may be both at once deliver'd.

Pro. Well, Sir, here is for your pains: What said she? Speed. Truly, Sir, I think you'll hardly win her. Pro. Why couldst thou perceive so much from her?

Speed. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter; and being so hard to me that brought your mind, I fear, she'll prove as hard to you in telling her mind. Give her no token but stones; for she's as hard as steel.

Pro. What, said she nothing? Speed. No, not so much as-take this for thy pains. To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testern'd me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself: and so, Sir, I'll commend you to my master. [wreck;

Pro. Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from Which cannot perish, having thee aboard, ng destined to a drier death on shore: I must go send some better messenger; I fear, my Julia would not deign my lines, Receiving them from such a worthless post.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.—The same.-Garden of JULIA's House.

Enter JULIA and LUCETTA.

Jul. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love? Late. Av, madam; so you stumble not unheed-. fully.

Jul. Of all the fair resort of gentlemen, That every day with parle encounter me, In thy opinion, which is worthiest love? Luc. Please you, repeat their names, I'll shew my mind

According to my shallow simple skill.

A term for a conrtezan. + A game at cards.
Ill betide. Given me a sixpence. #Talk.

Jul. What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour? Luc. As of a knight well spoken, neat and fine; But, were I you, he never should be mine.' Jul. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio? Luc. Well, of his wealth; but of himself, so, so. Jul. What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus? Luc. Lord, lord! To see what folly reigns in us! Jul. How now! What means this passion at his name?

Luc. Pardon, dear madam; 'tis a passing shame, That I, unworthy body as I am,

Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.
Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest?
Luc. Then thus,-of many good I think him best.
Jul. Your reason?

Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason;
I think him so, because I think him so.
Jul. And wouldst thou have me cast my love on

him?

Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.
Jul. Why, he of all the rest hath never moved me.
Luc. Yet he of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.
Jul. His little speaking shews his love but small.
Lac. Fire, that is closest kept, burns most of all.
Jul. They do not love, that do not shew their love.
Luc. O, they love least, that let men know their
love.

Jul. I would, I knew his mind.
Luc. Peruse this paper, inadam.
Jul. To Julia-Say, from whom?
Luc. That the contents will shew.
Jul. Say, say; who gave it thee?
Luc. Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from
Proteus:

He would have given it you, but I, being in the

way,

Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault I pray.

Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker +; Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines? To whisper and conspire against my youth? Now, trust me, 'tis an oflice of great worth, And you an officer fit for the place. There, take the paper, see it be return'd; Or else return no more into nry sight.

Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate. Jul. Will you begone? Luc. That you may ruminate. [Erit. Jul. And yet, I would I had o'erlook'd the letter. It were a shame to call her back again, And pray her to a fault for which I chid her. What fool is she, that knows I am a maid, And would not force the letter to my view? Since maids, in modesty, say No, to that Which they would have the proferrer construe, Ay. Fie, fie! How wayward is this foolish love, That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse, And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod ! How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence, When willingly I would have had her here! How angrily I taught my brow to frown, When inward joy enforced my heart to smile! My penance is, to call Lucetta back, And ask remission for my folly past:What ho! Lucetta!

Re-enter LUCETTA. Luc. What would your ladyship? Jul. Is it near dinner time?

Late. I would it were;

That you might kill your stomach on your meat, And not upon your maid.

Jul. What is't you took up

So gingerly?

Luc. Nothing.

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.
+ A match-maker.
Passion or obstinacy.

Pass sentence.

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 coilý 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
pleased

To be so anger'd with another letter.

[Exit.
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!
As in revenge of thy ingratitude,

I throw thy name against the bruising stones,
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.
Look, here is writ-love-wounded Proteus :--
Poor wounded name! My bosom, as a bed,
Shall lodge thee, till thy wound be thoroughly
heal'd;

And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
But twice, or thrice, was Proteus written down?
Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away,
Till I have found each letter in the letter,
Except mine own name; that some whirlwind bear
Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock,
And throw it thence into the raging sea!
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,-
Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia;-that I'll tear away;
And yet I will not, sith | so prettily
He couples it to his complaining names:
Thus will I fold them one upon another;
Now, kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.

Re-enter LUCETTA.

Luc. Madam, dinner's ready, and your father Jul. Well, let us go. [stays. Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here?

Jul. If you respect them, best to take them up. Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down: Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold.

Jul. I see, you have a month's mind to them. Luc. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you

see;

I see things too, although you judge I wink.
Jul. Come, come, will't please you go? [Exeunt.
SCENE III.—The same.-A Room in ANTONIO's
House.

Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO.

Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that, Where with my brother held you in the cloister? Pant. Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. 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. For any, or for all these exercises, 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 thou much importune me to that Whereon this month I have been harmering. I have consider'd well his loss of time;

Not being tried, and tutor❜d in the world:
Experience is by industry atchieved,

And perfected by the swift course of time :
Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him?
Pant. I think, your lordship is not ignora.it,
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 advised:
And, that thou may'st perceive how well I like it,
The execution of it shall make known;
Even with the specdiest expedition

I will dispatch him to the emperor's court.
Pant. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Al
With other gentlemen of good esteem, [phonso,
Are journeying to salute the emperor,
And to commend their service to his will.
Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go:
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 father's would applaud our loves,
To seal our happiness with their consents!
O heavenly Julia!

[there!
Ant. How now? What letter are you reading
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.

writes

Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news. Pro. There is no news, my lord; but that he 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.

Aut. 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 resolved that thou shalt spend some time
With Valentinus in the emperor's court;
What maintenance he from his friends receives,
Like exhibition thou shalt have from me.
To-morrow be in readiness to go:
Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.

Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided;
Please you, deliberate a day or two.
Ant. Look, what thou want'et, shall be sent after

thee:

Speed. Why then this may be yours, for this is but

• Break the matter to him.
1 Allowance.

+ Wonder.

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. [slow. Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too Val. Go to, Sir; tell me, do you know madam Speed. She that your worship loves? [Silvia ? Val. Why, how know you that I am in love? Speed. Marry, by these special marks: First, you have learn'd, like Sir Proteus, to wreath your arms like a male-content; to relish a love-song, like a robin-red-breast; to walk alone, like one that bad 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 t. You were wont, when you laugh'd, to crow like a cock; when you walk'd, to walk like one of the lions; when fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you look'd sadly, it was for want of money and now you are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when 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.

you

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 like the water in an urinal; that not an eye, that sees you, but is a physician to comment on your malady.

Val. But, tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia? Speed. She, that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper?

Val. Hast thon observed that? Even she I mean. Speed. Why, Sir, I know her not.

Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet know'st her not?

Speed. Is she not hard-favour'd, Sir?
Val. Not so fair, boy, as well-favour'd.
Speed. Sir, I know that well enough.
Val. What dost thou know?

Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) well

favour'd.

Val. I mean, that her beauty is exquisite, but her favour infinite.

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. [beauty.

Val. How esteemest thou me? I account of her
Speed. You never saw her since she was deform'd.
Val. How long hath she been deform'd?
Speed. Ever since you loved her.

Val. I have loved 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 ungarter'd!

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 your hose.

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 cease.

Val. Last night, she enjoin'd me to write some lines to one she loves.

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.

[done.

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 + Val. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off; I writ at random, very doubtfully. For being ignorant to whom it goes,

[pains? Sil. Perchance you think too much of so much Please you command, a thousand times as much: Val. No, madam; so it stead you, I will write, And yet,

Sil. A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel; And yet I will not name it :-and yet I care not ;Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more. And yet take this again ;-and yet I thank you; Speed. And yet you will; and yet another yet. Val. What means your ladyship? Do you not .,like it?

Aside.

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. And, if it please you, so; if not, why, so. Sil. And, when it's writ, for my sake read it over; Val. If it please me, madam! What then? Sil. Why, if it please you, take it for your labour; And so good morrow, servant. [Exit Silvia. Speed. O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weather-cock on a

steeple !

He being her pupil, to become her tutor.
My master sues to her; and she hath taught her

[suitor, O excellent device! Was there ever heard a better? That my master, being scribe, to himself should

write the letter?

Val. How now, Sir? What, are you reasoning with yourself?

Speed. Nay, I was rhyming; 'tis you that have the
Val. To do what?
[reason.
Speed. To be a spokesman from madam Silvia.
Val. To whom?

Spee. To yourself: why, she wooes you by a
Val. What figure?

[figure.

Speed. By a letter, I should say.
Val. Why, she hath not writ to me?
Speed. What need she, when she hath made you

write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the Val. No, believe me.

[jest?

Speed. No believing you indeed, Sir: but did you perceive her earnest?

Val. She gave me none, except an angry word.

Speed. Why, she h Val. That's the l Speed. And that." there an end 1.

Val. I would it wo
Speed. I'll warrant

ou a letter.

her friend. e deliver'd, and

well:

Val. I have dined.

Speed. Ay, but hearken, Sir: though the came leon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourish'd by my victuals, and would fain have meat: 0, be not like your mistress; be moved, be moved. [Exeunt.

Pan. Come, come away, man; thee.

SCENE II.-Verona.-A Room in JULIA's House.

Enter PROTEUS and JULIA.

Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia.
Jul. I must, where is no remedy.
Pro. When possibly I can, I will return.

Jul. If you turn not, you will return the sooner : Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake. Giving a Ring. Pro. Why then we'll make exchange; here, take you this.

Jul. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss. Pro. Here is my hand for my true constancy; And when that hour o'er-slips me in the day, Wherein I sigh not Julia, for thy sake, The next eusuing hour some foul mischance Torment me for my love's forgetfulness! My father stays my coming; answer not; The tide is now: nay, not the tide of tears; That tide will stay me longer than 1 should.

[Exit Julia. Julia, farewell.-What! Gone withont à word? Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak ; For truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace it.

Enter PANTHINO.

Pan. Sir Proteus, you are staid for.
Pro. Go; I come, I come :-

Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb.[Exeunt.

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 shew you the manner of it: This shoe is my father;-no, this left shoe is my father;-no, no, this left shoe is my mother;-nay, that cannot be so neither;-yes, it is so, it is so; it hath the worser sole: this shoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father; a vengeance on't! There 'tis: now, Sir, this staff is my sister; for look you, she 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 himself, and I am the dog :-0, 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, he weeps on:-Now come I to my mother, (0, that she 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.

Pan. Launce, away shipp'd and thou art the matter? Why we you will lose the tre

Laun. It is no mat

is the unkindest tied

2421 oard; thy master is with oars. What's man? Away, ass; 10% ry any longer. fed were lost; for it e. any man tied.

Pan. What's the unkindest tide? Laun. Why, he that's tied here; Crab, my dog. Pan. 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 shouldst lose thy tongue.
Pun. Where should I lose my tongue?
Laun. In thy tale.

Pan. In thy tail?

Laun. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service?-The tide !-Why, man, it 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.

was sent to call

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 shot off.

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

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

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

Val. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman To be of worth, and worthy estimation, And not without desert so well reputed. Duke. Hath he not a son?

Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well deserves The honour and regard of such a father. Duke. You know him well?

Val. I knew him, as myself; for, from our infancy

We have conversed, and spent our hours together:
And though myself have been an idle truant,
Omitting the sweet benefit of time,

To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection;
Yet hath Sir Proteus, 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 t.at I now bestow,)
He is complete in feature, and in mind,
With all good grace to grace a gentleman.
Duke. Beshrews me, Sir, but, if he make this good,
• Serious. + Perhaps. Observe. Ill betide.