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 torment?

To die, is to be banished from myself;
And Silvia is myself: banished from her,
Is self from self; a deadly banishment!
What light is light, if Silvia be not seen?
What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?
Unless it be to think that she is by,

And feed upon the shadow of perfection.
Except I be by Silvia in the night,
There is no music in the nightingale;
Unless I look on Silvia in the day,
There is no day for me to look upon :
She is my essence; and I leave to be,
If I be not by her fair influence
Fostered, illumined, cherished, kept alive.
I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom :
Tarry I here, I but attend on death:
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. Sir, there's a proclamation that you are vanished.

Pro. That thou art banished. O, that is 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 offered to the doom, (Which, unreversed, stands in effectual force), A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears: Those at her father's churlish feet she tendered; With them, upon her knees, her humble self; Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them,

As if but now they waxéd 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 chafed 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 power 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 canst not

help,

And study help for that which thou lament'st.
Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
Here if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love;
Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.
Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that,
And manage it against despairing thoughts.
Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence;
Which, being writ to me, shall be delivered
Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.
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,
Regard thy danger, and along with me.

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 't is I love, and yet 't is a woman: but that woman, I will not tell myself; and yet 't is a milkmaid; yet 't is not a maid, for she hath had gossips: yet 't is a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages. She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel,-which is much in a bare-christian. Here is the cat-log [pulling out a paper] of her conditions. 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.

Speed. How now, Signior Launce? what news with your mastership?

Laun. With my master's ship? why, it is at sea. Speed. Well, your old vice still; mistake the word: What news then in your paper?

Laun.The blackest news that ever thou heard'st.
Speed. Why, man, how black?

Laun. Why, as black as ink.
Speed. Let me read them.

Laun. Fye on thee, jolt-head; thou canst not read.

Speed. Thou liest, I can.

Laun. I will try thee: Tell me this: Who begot thee?

Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather. Laun. O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy grandmother: this proves that thou canst not

read.

Speed. Come, fool, come: try me in thy paper.
Laun. There; and St. Nicholas be thy speed!
Speed. Imprimis, She can milk.
Laun. Ay, that she can.

Speed. Item, She brews good ale.

Laun. And thereof comes the proverb,"Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale." 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. 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 respect of her breath.

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

Speed. Item, She hath a sweet mouth. Laun. That makes amends for her sour breath. Speed. Item, She doth talk in her sleep. Laun. It's no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk.

Speed. Item, She is slow in words.

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

Laun. 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. She will often praise her liquor. Laun. 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.

Laun. 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 I cannot 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,— Laun. More hair than wit,-it may be; I'll prove it: 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?

SCENE II. The same.

[Exit.

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 hath despised me most, Forsworn my company, and railed at me, That I am desperate of obtaining her.

Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure Trenchéd in ice; which with an hour's heat Dissolves to water, and doth lose his form. A little time will melt her frozen thoughts, And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.How now, Sir Proteus? Is your countryman, According to our proclamation, gone? Pro. Gone, my good lord.

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 shewn 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 persévers 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 With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent; Three things that women highly hold in hate.

Duke. Ay, but she'll think that it is spoke in hate. Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it: Therefore it must, with circumstance, be spoken By one whom she esteemeth as his friend.

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

Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage

him,

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

Pro. You have prevailed, 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, It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio. Thu.Therefore, as you unwind her love from him, Lest it should ravel, and be good to none, You must provide to bottom it on me: Which must be done by praising me as much As you in worth dispraise Sir Valentine.

Duke. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind;

Because we know, on Valentine's report,
You are already love's firm votary,

And cannot soon revolt and change your mind.
Upon this warrant shall you have access,
Where you with Silvia may confer at large;
For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy,
And, for your friend's sake, will be glad of you;
Where you may temper her, by your persuasion,
To hate young Valentine, and love my friend.
Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect:-
But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough;
You must lay lime, to tangle her desires,
By wailful sonnets, whose composéd rhymes
Should be full fraught with serviceable vows.
Duke. Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred
poesy.

Pro. Say, that upon the altar of her beauty

You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart;
Write till your ink be dry; and with your tears
Moist it again; and frame some feeling line,
That may discover such integrity:
For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews;
Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,
Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans
Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.
After your dire lamenting elegies,

Visit by night your lady's chamber-window
With some sweet concert: to their instruments
Tune a deploring dump; the night's dead silence
Will well become such sweet complaining griev-

ance.

This, or else nothing, will inherit her.

Duke. This discipline shews thou hast been in love.

Thu. And thy advice this night I'll put in prac

tice:

Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver,
Let us into the city presently,

To sort some gentlemen well skilled in music:
I have a sonnet that will serve the turn,
To give the onset to thy good advice..
Duke. About it, gentlemen.

Pro. We'll wait upon your grace till after supper:
And afterward determine our proceedings.
Duke. Even now about it; I will pardon you.
[Exeunt.

I killed a man, whose death I much repent;
But yet I slew him manfully in fight,
Without false vantage, or base treachery.
1st Out. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so :
But were you banished for so small a fault?

Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doom. 1st Out. Have you the tongues?

Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy;

Or else I often had been miserable.

3rd Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat

friar,

This fellow were a king for our wild faction.

1st Out. We'll have him; sirs, a word.
Speed. Master, be one of them;

It is an honourable kind of thievery.
Val. Peace, villain!

2nd Out. Tell us this: Have you anything to take to?

Val. Nothing, but my fortune.

3rd Out. Know then, that some of us are gen

tlemen,

Such as the fury of ungoverned youth
Thrust from the company of awful men:
Myself was from Verona banished
For practising to steal away a lady,
An heir, and near allied unto the duke.

2nd Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Whom, in my mood, I stabbed unto the heart.

1st Out. And I, for such like petty crimes as

these.

But to the purpose,-for we cite our faults,
That they may hold excused our lawless lives;
And, partly, seeing you are beautified
With goodly shape; and by your own report
A linguist; and a man of such perfection,
As we do in our quality much want;-

2nd Out. Indeed, because you are a banished man, Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you: Are you content to be our general?

To make a virtue of necessity,
And live, as we do, in this wilderness?