By my so potent art. But this rough magie
I here abjure: and, when I have required.
Some heavenly music, (which even now I do.)
work mine end upon their senses, that

This airy charma is for, I'll break my stall, A

Dory it certain fathoms in the earth,

budly deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book.

[Solemn music. Re-enter ARIEL: after him, ALONSO, with a frantic gesture, attended by GONZALO; SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO in like manner, attended by ADRIAN and FRANCISCO: they all enter the circle which PROSPERO had made, and there stand charmed; which PROSPERO observing, speaks.

A solemn air, and the best comforter
To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains,

Now useless, boil'd within thy skull! There stand,
For you are spell-stopp'd.-

Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,

Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine,
Fall fellowly drops.- The charm dissolves apace;
And as the morning steals upon the night,
Melting the darkness, so their rising senses
Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mautle
Their clearer reason.-O my good Gonzalo,
My true preserver, and a loyal sir

To him thou follow'st; I will pay thy graces
Home, both in word and deed. Most cruelly
Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter:
Thy brother was a furtherer in the act;-

Thou 'rt pinch'd for 't now, Sebastian.-Flesh and blood,
You brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,
Expell'd remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian,
(Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,)
Would here have kill'd your king; I do forgive thee,
Unnatural though thou art!Their understanding
Begins to swell; and the approaching tide Ja
Will shortly fill the reasonable shores,

That now lie foul and muddy. Not one of them,
That yet looks on me, or would know me:-Ariel,
Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell; [Exit ARIEL.
I will dis-case me, and myself present, helper
As I was sometime Milan: quickly, spirit;
Thou shalt ere long be free.

ARIEL re-enters, singing, and helps to attire PROSPERO.
Ari. "Where the bee sucks, there suck Li

In a cowslip's bell I lie;

There I couch when owls do cry.

On the bat's back I do fly,

After summer, merrily:

Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough."

Pro. Why, that's my dainty Ariel: I shall miss thee;
But yet thou shalt have freedom: so, so, so.-
To the king's ship, invisible as thou art:
There shalt thou find the mariners asleep

Under the hatches; the master, and the boatswain,
Being awake, enforce them to this place;
And presently, I pr'ythee.

Ari. I drink the air before me, and return

Or e'er your pulse twice beat.

[Exit ARIEL.

Gon. All torment, trouble, wonder, and amazement Inhabits here. Some heavenly power guide us

Out of this fearful country!

Pro. Behold, Sir King,

The wronged duke of Milan, Prospero:

For more assurance that a living prince

Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body;
And to thee, and thy company, I bid

A hearty welcome.

Alon. Whe'r thou beest he, or no,

Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,

As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse

Beats, as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee,

Th' affliction of my mind amends, with which,

I fear, a madness held me: this must crave (An if this be at all) a most strange story. Thy dukedom I resign; and do entreat

Thou pardon me my wrongs:-But how should Prospero Be living, and be here?

Pro. First, noble friend,

Let me embrace thine age; whose honour cannot

Be measured or confined.

Gon. Whether this be,

Or be not, I'll not swear.

Pro. You do yet taste

Some subtilties o' the isle, that will not let you
Believe things certain :-Welcome, my friends all:-
But you, my brace of lords. were I so minded,
[Aside to SEB. and ANT.

Alon. A daughter?

O heavens! that they were living both in Naples,
The king and queen there! that they were, I wish
Myself were mudded in that oozy bed zv
Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter!
Pro. In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords
At this encounter do so much admire,

That they devour their reason, and scarce think
Their eyes do offices of truth, their words
Are natural breath: but, howsoe'er you have
Been justled from your senses, know for certain,

That I am Prospero, and that very duke

Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most strangely
Upon this shore, where you were wreck'd, was landed,
To be the lord on't. No more yet of this;
For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,

Not a relation for a breakfast, nor
Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, Sir;
This cell's my court: here have I few attendants,
And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in.
My dukedom since you have given me again,
I will requite you with as good a thing;
At least, bring forth a wonder, to content ye,
As much as me my dukedom.

Pro. There, Sir, stop

Let us not burden our remembrances With a heaviness that's gone

Gon. I have inly wept,

Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods,
And on this couple drop a blessed crown;

For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way
Which brought us hither!

Alon. I say, Amen, Gonzalo !

Gon. Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue Should become kings of Naples? O, rejoice Beyond a common joy; and set it down With gold on lasting pillars: in one voyage Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis; And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife, Where he himself was lost; Prospero his dukedom, In a poor isle; and all of us, ourselves, When no man was his own.

Alon. Give me your hands:

[To FER. and MIRA.

Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart,

That doth not wish you joy!

Gon. Be't so! Amen!

Re-enter ARIEL, with the Master and Boatswain amazedly following.

O look, Sir, look, Sir; here are more of us!

I prophesied, if a gallows were on land, 2e h

This fellow could not drown-Now, blasphemy, That swear'st grace o'erboard, not an oath on shore?

Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?

Boats. The best news is, that we have safely found Our king and company: the next, our shipWhich, but three glasses since, we gave out splitIs tight and yare, and bravely rigg'd, as when We first put out to sea.

Ari. Sir, all this service

Have I done since I went.

Pro. My tricksy spirit!

[Aside. A side.

Alon. These are not natural events; they strengthen, From strange to stranger :-Say, how came you hither? Boats. If I did think, Sir, I were well awake, I'd strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep, And (how, we know not) all clapp'd under hatches, Where, but even now, with strange and several noises Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains, And more diversity of sounds, all horrible, We were awaked; straightway, at liberty: Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld Our royal, good, and gallant ship; our master Capering to eye her: on a trice, so please you, Even in a dream, were we divided from them, And were brought moping hither.

Ari. Was 't well done?

2

merè

Pro. Mark but the badges of these men, my lords, Then say, if they be true:-This misshapen knave, His mother was a witch; and one so strong

That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
And deal in her command, without her power;
These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil
(For he's a bastard one) had plotted with them
To take my life: two of these fellows you
Must know, and own; this thing of darkness I
Acknowledge mine.

Cal. I shall be pinch'd to death.

Alon. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler? our Seb. He is drunk now: where had he wine? Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they Find this grand liquor that hath gilded them? y

How cam'st thou in this pickle? 6

Trin. I have been in such a pickle, since I saw you last, that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing.

Seb. Why, how now, Stephano?

Ste. O, touch me not; I am not Stephano but a cramp, Pro. You'd be king of the isle, sirrah?

Ste. I should have been a sore one then. Alon. This is as strange a thing as e'er I look'd on. [Pointing to CALIBAN.

Pro. He is as disproportion'd in his manners,

As in his shape:-Go, sirrah, to my cell;

Take with you your companions; as you look jut V2

To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.

Cal. Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter, And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass Was I, to take this drunkard for a god, And worship this dull fool?

Pro. Go to; away!

Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you Seb. Or stole it, rather.

[found it. [Exeunt CAL, STE., and TRIN Pro. Sir, I invite your highness, and your train, To my poor cell: where you shall take your rest For this one night; which (part of it) I'll waste With such discourse, as, I not doubt, shall make it Go quick away: the story of my life, And the particular accidents gone by, Since I came to this isle: and in the morn I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples Where I have hope to see the nuptial Of these our dear-beloved solemnized; And thence retire me to my Milan, where Every third thought shall be my grave.

Alon. I long

en

ha

Pro. Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free. for eris

Alon. This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod: And there is in this business more than nature Was ever conduct of: some oracle

Must rectify our knowledge.

Pro. Sir, my liege,

Do not infest your mind with beating on

The strangeness of this business; at pick'd leisure,
Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you
(Which to you shall seem probable) of every
These happen'd accidents: till when, be cheerful, d
And think of each thing well.-Come hither, spirit;

[Aside.

Ste. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself; for all is but fortune:-Coragio, bully-monster, Coragio!

Trin. If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here's a goodly sight.

Cal. O Setebos, these be brave spirits, indeed! How fine my master is! I am afraid

EPILOGUE,

SPOKEN BY PROSPERO.

Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have's mine own;
Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,
I must be here confined by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got,
And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island, by your spell;
But release me from my bands,
With the help of your good hands.
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer;
Which pierces so, that it assaults

Mercy itself, and frees all faults.

As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.

ACT I.

SCENE L.-An open Place in VERONA.

Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS.
Val. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus;
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits:
Were'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 sluggardised at home,
Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.

But, since thou lov'st, 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 beadsman, 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 shoes 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. To be

In love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks, With beart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth, With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights:

If haply won, perhaps, a hapless gain:

If lost, why then a grievous labour won;
However, but a folly bought with wit,

Or else a wit by folly vanquished.

Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. Val. So, by your circumstance, I fear you'll prove. Pro. 'Tis love you cavil at; I am not Love. Val. Love is your master, for he masters you: And he that is so yoked by a fool, Methinks should not be chronicled 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 adieu: my father at the road
Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd.

Pro. And thither will I bring thee, 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 VALENTINB.
Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love:

Speed. Why, then, my horns are his horns, whether 1 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.

Speed. 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 seek 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? gav'st 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 are 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. Speed. From a pound to a pin? fold it over and over, 'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover. Pro. But what said she? did she nod? [SPEED nods. Speed. I.

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, 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 delivered.

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, 1 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. Pro. Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wreck: Which cannot perish, having thee aboard, Being 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?

Luc. Ay, Madam; so you stumble not unheedfully
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 According to my shallow simple skill.

[miud

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 bim 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.
Luc. 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, Madam.
Jul. "To Julia,"-Say, from whom?
Luc That the contents will shew.
Jul Say, say; who gave it thee?

[Proteus:

Luc. Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from
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 office 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 my sight.

Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.
Jul. Will you be gone?

Luc. That you may ruminate.

[Exit.

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 profferer 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.

LAC. What would your ladyship! Jul. Is it near dinner-time!

Jul. Why shouldst 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.
Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it.
Jul. And why not you?

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 coil with protestation!- [Tears the letter.
Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie:
You would be fingering them, to anger me.

[pleased [Exit.

Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be best To be so anger'd with another letter.

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 heard;
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 Lucetia.

Luc. Madam, dinner's ready, and your father stays. Jul. Well, let us go.

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;

[Exeunt

I see things too, although you judge I wink.
Jul. Come, come, will 't please you go?
SCENE III.-The same. A Room in ANTONIO'S House
Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO.

Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that,
Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister?
Pan. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son.
Ant. Why, what of him?

Pan. 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;

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 impórtune me to that, Whereon this month I have been hammering.

I have consider'd well his loss of time;
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being tried and tutor'd in the world:
Experience is by industry achieved,
And perfected by the swift course of time:
Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him?
Pan. I think, your lordship is not ignorant,
How his companion, youthful Valentine,
Attends the emperor in his royal court.

Ant. I know it well.

Pan. 'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him There shall he practise tilts and tournaments, [thither: 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 mayst perceive how well I like it,
The execution of it shall make known;
Even with the speediest expedition

I will despatch him to the emperor's court.

Pan. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso, With other gentlemen of good esteem, 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 fathers would applaud our loves,
To seal our happiness with their consents!
O heavenly Julia!

Ant. How now? what letter are you reading there?
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.

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

Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided;

Please you, deliberate a day or two.

Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent after thee:
No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.-
Come on, Panthino; you shall be employ'd

To hasten on his expedition. [Exeunt ANT. and PAN.
Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire, for fear of burn-
And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd: [ing;
I fear'd to shew my father Julia's letter,
Lest he should take exceptions to my love;
And with the vantage of mine own excuse
Hath he excepted most against my love.
O, how this spring of love resembleth

The uncertain glory of an April day;
Which now shews all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away!

ACT II.

SCENE I.-MILAN. An Apartment in the DUKE's Palace Enter VALENTINE and SPEED.

Speed. Sir, your glove.

Val. Not mine; my gloves are on.

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

Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow. Val. Go to, Sir; tell me, do you know Madam Silvia? Speed. She that your worship loves?

Val. Why, how know you that I am in love?

Speed. Marry, by these special marks: first, you nave learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreath your arms like a maicontent; to relish a love-song, like a robinred-breast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a schoolboy 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. You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you looked sadly, it was for want of money and now you are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I 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.

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 you like the water in a 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 thou 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-favoured, Sir?
Val. Not so fair, boy, as well-favoured.
Speed. Sir, I know that well enough.
Val. What dost thou know?

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

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.

Val. How esteem'st thou me? I account of her beauty.

Speed. You never saw her since she was deformed
Val. How long hath she been deformed?

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 ungartered!

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.

B