SCENE III. [The same. A street.]

Enter LAUNCE [leading a dog].

Launce. Nay, 't will be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault. I have receiv'd 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 eat 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 [10 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 show you the manner of it. This shoe is [15 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 ven- [20 geance 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, O! the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so. Now come I to my [25 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. Oh, that she could speak now like a wood woman! Well, I kiss [30 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.]

[35

Speed. Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you,
Val. Ay, boy, it's for love.
Speed. Not of you.

Val. Of my mistress, then.

Speed. 'T were good you knock'd him.

Sil. Servant, you are sad.

Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so.
Thu. Seem you that you are not?
Val. Haply I do.

Thu. So do counterfeits.
Val. So do you.

Thu. What seem I that I am not?
Val. Wise.

Thu. What instance 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.

[Exit.]

Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly. Thu. How?

10

15

20

Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio! Do you change colour?

Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of chameleon.

26

Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood than live in your air. Val. You have said, sir.

20

Thu. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time. Val. I know it well, sir; you always end ere

you begin.

Sil. fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off.

Val. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver.

Sil. Who is that, servant?

35

Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire. Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your

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 [eye], or Valentinus' praise,

199

205

Her true perfection, or my false transgression,
That makes me, reasonless, to reason thus?
She is fair; and so is Julia that I love -
That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd; 200
Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire,
Bears no impression 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 so little.
How shall I dote on her with more advice,
That thus without advice begin to love her!
'Tis but her picture I have yet beheld,
And that hath dazzled my reason's light;
But when I look on her perfections,
There is no reason but I shall be blind.
If I can check my erring love, I will;

210

If not, to compass her I'll use my skill. [Exit SCENE V. [The same. A street.]

Enter SPEED and LAUNCE [severally]. Speed. Launce! By mine honesty, welcome to Milan !

Launce. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth, for I am not welcome. I reckon this always, that a man is never undone till he be hang'd, (6 nor never welcome to a place till some certain shot be paid and the hostess say, "Welcome!'

Speed. Come on, you madcap, I'll to the alehouse with you presently; where, for one shot of five pence, thou shalt have five thousand [1a welcomes. But, sirrah, how did thy master part with Madam Julia ?

Launce. Marry, after they clos'd in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest.

Speed. But shall she marry him?

Launce. No.

Speed. How then? Shall he marry her? Launce. No, neither.

Speed. What, are they broken?

14

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

Speed. Why, then, how stands the matter with them?

Launce. Marry, thus: when it stands well with him, it stands well with her.

Speed. What an ass art thou! I understand [2 thee not.

Launce. What a block art thou, that thou canst not! My staff understands me. Speed. What thou say'st?

Launce. Ay, and what I do too. Look thee, [30 I'll but lean, and my staff understands me. Speed. It stands under thee, indeed. Launce. Why, stand-under and under-stand is all one.

Speed. But tell me true, will 't be a match? 35 Launce. Ask my dog. If he say ay, it will; if he say, no, it will; if he shake his tail and say nothing, it will.

Speed. The conclusion is then that it will. Launce. Thou shalt never get such a secret [40 from me but by a parable.

Speed. 'Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce, how say'st thou, that my master is become a notable lover?

Launce. I never knew him otherwise.
Speed. Than how?

45

Launce. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him to be.

Speed. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mis

tak'st me.

50

Launce. Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy master.

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

Launce. Why, I tell thee, I care not though [55 he burn himself in love. If thou wilt, go with me to the alehouse; if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian. Speed. Why?

Launce. Because thou hast not so much [60 charity in thee as to go to the ale with a Christian. Wilt thou go?

Speed. At thy service.

[Exeunt.

swear.

10

O sweet-suggesting Love, if thou hast sinn'd,
Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it!
At first I did adore a twinkling star,
But now I worship a celestial sun.
Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken;
And he wants wit that wants resolved will
To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better.
Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad,
Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd 15
With twenty thousand soul-confirming oaths.
I cannot leave to love, and yet I do;
But there I leave to love where I should love.
Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose.

If I keep them, I needs must lose myself.
If I lose them, thus find I by their loss
For Valentine, myself, for Julia, Silvia.

20

30

I will forget that Julia is alive,
Remembering that my love to her is dead;
And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,
Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.
I cannot now prove constant to myself,
Without some treachery us'd to Valentine.
This night he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celestial Silvia's chamber-window,
Myself in counsel, his competitor.
Now presently I'll give her father notice
Of their disguising and pretended flight,
Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentine.
For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter;
But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross 40
By some sly trick blunt Thurio's dull proceed-
ing.

35

Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift, As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift! [Exit.

SCENE VII. [Verona. Julia's house.]

Enter JULIA and LUCETTA.

Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me ; And even in kind love I do conjure thee, Who art the table wherein all my thoughts Are visibly character'd and engrav'd, To lesson me and tell me some good mean How, with my honour, I may undertake A journey to my loving Proteus.

Luc. Alas, the way is wearisome and long! Jul. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps; 10 Much less shall she that hath Love's wings to fly. And when the flight is made to one so dear, Of such divine perfection, as Sir Proteus.

Luc. Better forbear till Proteus make return. Jul. O, know'st thou not his looks are my soul's food?

15

Pity the dearth that I have pined in,
By longing for that food so long a time.
Didst thou but know the inly touch of love,
Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow
As seek to quench the fire of love with words. 20
Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot
fire,

But qualify the fire's extreme rage,

Lest it should burn above the bounds of rea

25

He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;
And so by many winding nooks he strays
With willing sport to the wild ocean.
Then let me go, and hinder not my course.
I'll be as patient as a gentle stream,
And make a pastime of each weary step.
Till the last step have brought me to my love;
And there I'll rest, as after much turmoil

30

A blessed soul doth in Elysium.

I to myself am dearer than a friend,
For love is still most precious in itself;
And Silvia witness Heaven, that made her
fair!

Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.