[Exit.

Laun. Marry, after they closed in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest.

Speed. But shall she marry him?

Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match? Laun. 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. Laun. Thou shalt never get such a secret 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?

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

Loun. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him

Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot | And presently go with me to my chamber,

fire;

But qualify the fire's' extreme rage,

Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
Jul. The more thou dam'st2 it up, the more it
burns;

The current, that with gentle murmur glides,
Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;
But, when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with th' enamel'd stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
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,3
A blessed soul doth in Elysium.

Luc. But in what habit will you go along?
Jul. Not like a woman; for I would prevent
The loose encounters of lascivious men:
Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds
As may beseem some well reputed page.
Luc. Why then your ladyship must cut your hair.
Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in silken strings,
With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots;
To be fantastic may become a youth
Of greater time than I shall show to be.
Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your
breeches?

To take a note of what I stand in need of,
To furnish me upon my longing" journey.
All that is mine I leave at thy dispose,
My goods, my lands, my reputation;
Only, in lieu thereof despatch me hence:
Come, answer not, but to it presently;
I am impatient of my tarriance.

ACT III.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-Milan. An Anti-room in the Duke's
Palace. Enter DUKE, THURIO, and PROTEUS.
Duke. Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile;
We have some secrets to confer about.

[Exit THURIO. Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me? Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would dis

cover,

The law of friendship bids me to conceal:
But, when I call to mind your gracious favours
Done to me, undeserving as I am,

My duty pricks me on to utter that

Which else no worldly good should draw from me.
Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine, my friend,
This night intends to steal away your daughter;
Myself am one made privy to the plot.

I know you have determin'd to bestow her
On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates;
And should she thus be stolen away from you,
It would be much vexation to your age.
Thus, for my duty's sake, I rather chose
To cross my friend in his intended drift,
Than, by concealing it, heap on your head

Jul. That fits as well, as-"tell me, good my lord, "What compass will you wear your farthingale ?" Why, even what fashion thou best lik'st, Lucetta. Luc. You must needs have them with a cod-A piece,+ madam.

Jul. Out, out, Lucetta; that will be ill favour'd. Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin,

Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on.

Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly: But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me, For undertaking so unstaid a journey?

I fear me, it will make me scandaliz❜d.

pack of sorrows, which would press you down, Being unprevented, to your timeless grave.

Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care
Which to requite, command me while I live.
This love of theirs myself have often seen,
Haply, when they have judged me fast asleep;
And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid
Sir Valentine her company, and my court:
But, fearing lest my jealous aim' might err,
And so unworthily disgrace the man,
(A rashness that I ever yet have shunn'd,)

Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and go I gave him gentle looks; thereby to find

not.

Jul. Nay, that I will not.

Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go.
If Proteus like your journey, when you come,
No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone:
I fear me, he will scarce be pleas'd withal.

Jul. This is the least, Lucetta, of my fear:
A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
And instances of infinites of love,
Warrant me welcome to my Proteus.

Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men.
Jul. Base men, that use them to so base effect!
But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth:
His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles;
His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate;
His tears, pure messengers sent from his heart;
His heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth.
Luc. Pray heaven, he prove so, when you come

to him!

Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that

wrong,

To bear a hard opinion of his truth;
Only deserve my love, by loving him;

1 Fire as a dissyllable, as if spelt Fier.
2 i. e. closest.
3 Trouble.

That which thyself hast now disclos'd to me.
And, that thou may'st perceive my fear of this,
Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested3,
I nightly lodge her in an upper tower,
The key whereof myself have ever kept;
And thence she cannot be convey'd away.

Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean
How he her chamber-window will ascend,
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 please you, you may intercept him.
But, good my lord, do it so cunningly,
That my discovery be not aimed at ;
For love of you, not hate unto my friend,
Hath made me publisher of this retence.
Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never know
That I had any light from thee on this.
Pro. Adieu, my lord; Sir Valentine is coming.
[Exit.

Enter VALENTINE.

Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? Val. Please it your grace there is a messenger found the infinite of thought" in Much Ado About 4 Whoever wishes to be acquainted with that singu- Nothing. The text seems to me sufficiently intelligible, lar appendage to dress, a cod-piece, may consult "Bul-though we are not used to such construction. Malone wer's Artificial Changeling," Ocular instruction may be had from the armour shown as John of Gaunt's in the Tower. However offensive this language may appear to modern ears, it certainly gave none to any of the spectators in Shakspeare's days. He only used the ordinary language of his contemporaries.

5 The second folio reads-"as infinite of love," Malone wished to read of the infinite of love, because he

has cited an instance of infinite used for an infinity
from Lord Lonsdale's Memoirs, written in 1688.
6 By her longing journey, Julia means a journey
which she shall pass in longing.
7 i. e. guess.
In Romeo and Juliet we have-
"I aim'd so near when I suppos'd you lov'd."
8 i. e. tempted. Vide Note on Act ii. Sc. 5, p. 136.
9 i. c. design.

match

Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentleman
Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities
Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter:
Cannot your grace win her to fancy him?

Duke. No, trust me; she is peevish, sullen, fro-
ward,

Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty;
Neither regarding that she is my child,
Nor fearing me as if I were her father:
And, may I say 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 childlike duty,
I now am full resolv'd to take a wife,
And turn her out to who will take her in:
Then let her beauty be her wedding-dower;
For me and my possessions she esteems not.

Then let me see thy cloak; I'll get me one of such another length.

Val. Why, my cloak will serve the turn, my lord. Duke. How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak?I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.What letter is this same? What's here?-To Silvia!

[reads.

And here an engine fit for my proceeding?
I'll be so bold to break the seal for once.
My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly;
And slaves they are to me, that send them flying:
O, could their master come and go as lightly,
Himself would lodge where senseless they are lying.
My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them;
While I, their king, that thither them importune,
Do curse the grace that with such grace hath bless'd
them,

Because myself do want my servants' fortune:
I curse myself, for they are sent by me,

Val. What would your grace have me to do in That they should harbour where their lord should be.

this?

Duke. There is a lady, sir, in Milan, here,
Whom I affect; but she is nice, and coy,
And nought esteems my aged eloquence:
Now, therefore, would I have thee to my tutor,
(For long agone I have forgot to court:
Besides, the fashion of the time is chang'd;)
How, and which way, I may bestow myself,
To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.
Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words;
Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind,
More than quick words, do move a woman's mind.
Duke. But she did scorn a present that I sent her.
Val. A woman sometimes scorns what best con-

tents her:

Send her another; never give her o'er;

For scorn at first makes after-love the more.
If she do frown, 'ús not in hate of you,
But rather to beget more love in you:
If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone;
For why, the fools are mad, if left alone.
Take no repulse, whatever she doth say:
For, get you gone, she doth not mean, away:
Flatter, and praise, commend, extol their graces,
Though ne'er so black, say, they have angels' faces.
That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man,
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.
Duke. But she, I mean, is promis'd by her

friends

Unto a youthful gentleman of worth;
And kept severely from resort of men,
That no man hath access by day to her.

Val. Why then I would resort to her by night.
Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock'd, and keys kept

safe,

That no man hath recourse to her by night.
Val. What lets, but one may enter at her win-

dow?

Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground;
And built so shelving that one cannot climb it
Without apparent hazard of his life.

Val. Why then, a ladder, quaintly made of cords,
To cast up with a pair of anchoring hooks,
Would serve to scale another Hero's tower,
So bold Leander would adventure it.

Duke. Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood,
Advise me where I may have such a ladder.
Val. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell me
that.

What's here?

Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee!

'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose.-
Why, Phaeton (for thou art Merop's son,)
Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car,
And with thy daring folly burn the world?
Wilt thou reach stars because they shine on thee?
Go, base intruder! over-weening slave!
And think, my patience, more than thy desert,
Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates;
Thank me for this, more than for all the favours
Is privilege for thy departure hence:
Which, all too much, I have bestow'd on thee.
But if thou linger in my territories
Longer than swiftest expedition

Will give thee time to leave our royal court,
By heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the love
I ever bore my daughter, or thyself.

Be gone, I will not hear thy vain excuse,
But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence.
[Exit DUKE.
Val. And why not death, rather than living tor-

ment?

To die, is to be banish'd from myself;
And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her,
Is self from self; a deadly banishment!
What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?
What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
Unless it be to think that she is by,
And feed upon the shadow of perfection,4
Except I be by Silvia in the night,
There is no music in the nightingale;
There is no day for me to look upon:
Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
She is my essence; and I leave to be,
Foster'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive.
If I be not by her fair influence
Tarry I here, I but attend on death;
I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom;"
But, fly I hence, I fly away from life.
Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE.
Pro. Run, boy, run, run, and seek him out.
Laun. So-ho! so-ho!

Pro. What seest thou?

Laun. Him we go to find; there's not a hair on's head, but 'tis a Valentine.

4 And feed upon the shadow of perfection.
Animum pictura pascit inani. Virgil.

5 i. e. by flying, or in flying. It is a Gallicism.
6 Launce is still quibbling, he is running down the

hare he started when he first entered.

Pro. Valentine?

Val. No.

Pro. Who then? his spirit?

Val. Neither.

Pro. What then?

Val. Nothing.

Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.2
The time now serves not to expostulate:
Come, I'll convey thee through the city gate;
And, ere I part with thee, confer at large
Of all that may concern thy love-affairs:
As thou lov'st Silvia, though not for thyself,

Laun. Can nothing speak? master, shall I strike? Regard thy danger, and along with me.

Pro. Whom would'st thou strike?

Pro. That thou art banished, O, that's the news:
From hence, from Silvia, and from me, thy friend.
Val. O, I have fed upon this woe already,
And now excess of it will make me surfeit.
Doth Silvia know that I am banished?

Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom,
(Which, unrevers'd, stands in effectual force,)
A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears:
Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd;
With them, upon her knees, her humble self;
Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became

them,

As if but now they waxed pale for woe:
But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears,
Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire;
But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die.
Besides, her intercession chaf'd him so
When she for thy repeal was suppliant,
That to close prison he commanded her,
With many bitter threats of 'biding there.

Val. No more; unless the next word that thou
speak'st,

Have some malignant pow'r upon my life:
If so, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear,
As ending anthem of my endless dolour.'

Pro. Cease to lament for that thou can'st not

"These to her excellent white bosom." To understand this mode of addressing letters, &c. it should be known that women anciently had a pocket in the forepart of their stays, in which they carried not only love letters and love tokens, but even their money. &c. In many parts of England rustic damsels still continue the practice. A very old lady informed Mr. Steevens, that when it was the fashion to wear very prominent stays it was the custom for stratagem or gallantry to drop its literary favours within the front of

Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy, Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north gate. Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine. Val. O my dear Silvia! hapless Valentine!

[Exeunt VALENTINE and PROTEUS. Laun. I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to think, my master is a kind of a knave: but that's all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now, that knows me to be in love: yet I am in love; but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me; nor who 'tis I love, and yet 'tis a woman: but what woman, I will not tell myself: and yet 'tis a milk-maid: yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips: yet 'tis a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages. hath more qualities than a water-spaniel,-which is much in a bare4 christian. Here is the cate-log [Pulling out a paper] of her condition. Imprimis, She can fetch and carry. Why, a horse can do no more; nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry ; therefore is she better than a jade. Item, She can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands.

Enter SPEED.

She

Laun. Ay, that she can.

Speed. Item, She brews good ale.

Laun. And therefore comes the proverb,-Blessyour heart, you brew good ale.

ing of

Speed. Item, She can sew.

Laun. That's as much as to say, can she so?
Speed. Item, She can knit.

Laun. What need a man care for a stock with

a wench, when she can knit him a stock."
Speed. Item, She can wash and scour.

faire." Baret. The old copy reads condition, which was changed to conditions by Rowe.

6 It is undoubtedly true that the mother only knows the legitimacy of the child. Launce infers that if Speed could read, he must have read this well known obser

vation.

7 St. Nicholas presided over scholars, who were therefore called St. Nicholas' clerks; either because the legend makes this saint to have been a bishop while yet a boy, or from his having restored three young scholars to life. By a quibble between Nicholas and Old Nick highwaymen are called Nicholas' clerks in Henry IV. 3 Gossips not only signify those who answer for a part 1. The parish clerks of London finding that scho child in baptism, but the tattling women who attend ly-lars, more usually termed clerks, were under the pa ings-in. The quibble is evident.

them.

4 Bare, has two senses, mere and naked. Launce, quibbling on, uses it in both senses, and opposes the naked female to the water-spaniel covered with hairs of

remarkable thickness.

"Condition, honest behaviour or demeanour in living, a custume or facion. Mos. Moris, fucon de

tronage of this saint, conceived that clerks of any kind might have the same right, and accordingly took him as their patron, much in the same way as the woolcombers did St. Blaise, who was martyred with an instrument like a carding comb; the nailmakers St. Clou; and the booksellers St. John Port Latin.

8 i. e. stocking.

Laun. A special virtue; for then she need not be washed and scoured.

Speed. Item, She can spin.

Laun. Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living,

Speed. Item, She hath many nameless virtues. Laun. That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore

have no names.

Speed. Here follow her vices.

Laun. Close at the heels of her virtues.

Speed. Item, She is not to be kissed fasting, in Trespect of her breath.

Loun. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast: Read on.

Speed. Item, She hath a sweet mouth.1

Ian. That makes amends for her sour breath.
Speed. Hem, She doth talk in her sleep.

Speed. Why did'st not tell me sooner? 'pox of your love-letters! [Exit. Laun. Now will he be swinged for reading my letter: An unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into secrets! I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction.

SCENE II. The same. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Enter DUKE and THURIO; PROTEUS behind.

Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not, but that she will love you,

Now Valentine is banished from her sight.

Thu. Since his exile she has despis'd me most,
Forsworn my company, and rail'd at me,
That I am desperate of obtaining her.

Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure

Laun. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in Trench'd in ice; which with an hour's heat

her talk.

Speed. Item, She is slow in words.

Laas. O villain, that set this down among her vies! To be slow in words, is a woman's only virtue: I pray thee, out with't; and place it for het chief virtue.

Speed. Item, She is proud.

Laun. Out with that too; it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her.

Speed. Item, She hath no teeth.

Inn. I care not for that neither, because I love

crusts.

Speed. Item, She is curst.
Laun. Well, the best is, she hath no teeth to bite.
Speed. Item, She will often praise her liquor.
Lun. If her liquor be good, she shall: if she
will not, I will; for good things should be praised.
Speed. Item, She is too liberal.

Lun. Of her tongue she cannot; for that's writ
down she is slow of: of her purse she shall not;
for that I'll keep shut
now of another thing she
may; and that cannot Í help. Well, proceed.
Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit, and
more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.
Laun. Stop there; I'll have her: she was mine,
and not mine, twice or thrice in that last article:
Rehearse that once more.

Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit.—
Lawn. More hair than wit,-it may be; I'll prove

The cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it is more than the salt; the hair that covers the wit, is more than the wit; for the greater hides

the less. What's next?

Speed. And more faults than hairs.-
Ln. That's monstrous: O, that that were out!
Speed. And more wealth than faults.

Lun. Why, that word makes the faults grations, Well, I'll have her: and if it be a match, as nothing is impossible,

Speed. What then?

Lun. Why, then will I tell thee, that thy master stays for thee at the north-gate.

Speed. For me?

Dissolves to water, and doth lose his form.
A little time will melt her frozen thoughts,
And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.→
How Sir Proteus? Is your countryman,
According to our proclamation, gone?
Pro. Gone, my good lord.

now,

Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously.
Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief.
Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so.-
Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee,
(For thou hast shown some sign of good desert,)
Makes me the better to confer with thee.

Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your grace,
Let me not live to look upon your grace.

Duke. Thou know'st, how willingly I would effect
The match between Sir Thurio and my daughter.
Pro. I do, my lord.

Duke. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant
How she opposes her against my will.
Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here.
Duke. Ay, and perversely she persevers so.
What might we do, to make the girl forget
The love of Valentine, and love Sir Thurio?

Pro. The best way is to slander Valentine
Three things that women highly hold in hate.
With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent;

Duke. Ay, but she'll think that it is spoke in hate.
Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it:

By one, whom she esteemeth as his friend.
Therefore it must, with circumstance," be spoken

Duke. Then you must undertake to slander him.
"Tis an ill office for a gentleman;
Pro. And that, my lord, I shall be loth to do:

Especially against his very friend.

Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage
him,

Therefore the office is indifferent,
Your slander never can endamage him;
Being entreated to it by your friend.

Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord: if I can do it,
By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not long continue love to him.
But say, this weed her love from Valentine,

Laun. For thee? ay; who art thou? he hath It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio.

staid for a better man than thee.

Speed. And must I go to him?

Lawn. Thou must run to him, for thou hast staid so long, that going will scarce serve the turn.

Speed uses the term a sweet mouth in the sense a sireet tooth; but Launce chooses to understand it the literal and lauditory sense. Cotgrave renders Friand, A sweet-lips, daintie-mouthed, sweet-toothed," &c.

2 Liberal is licentious, free, frank, beyond honesty decency. Thus in Othello, Desdemonda says of azo: he not a most profane and liberal counselne."

3 This was an old familiar proverb, of which SteeVas has givena many examples. I will add one from Ph: "A tiaty-tosty wag feather, more haire than

There was but one on the dinner table, which was placed near the top, and those who sat below it were, for the most part, of inferior condition to those who sat above it.

5 Gracious was sometimes used for favoured, countenanced, like the Italian Gratiato, v. As you Like It. Art i. Sc. 2.

6 i. e. cut, carved; from the Fr. trancher.

7 i. e. with the addition of such incidental particulars as may induce belief.

8 Very, that is, true; from the Lat. verus. Massinger calls one of his plays " A Very Woman."

9 As you unwind her love from him, make me the bottom on which you wind it. A bottom is the housewife's term for a ball of thread wound upon a central

4 The ancient English salt-cellar was very different Loa the modern, being a large piece of plate, generally auch ornamented, with a cover to keep the salt clean. I body.