Speed. You never faw her fince she was deform'd.
Val. How long hath the been deform'd?

Speed. Ever fince you lov'd her.

Val. I have lov'd her, ever fince I saw her. And ftill I fee her beautiful.

you love her, you cannot see her.

Speed. If Val. Why?

Speed. Becaufe love is blind. eyes, or your own eyes had the to have, when you chid at Sir garter'd!

Val. What fhould I see then?

O, that you had mine lights they were wont Protheus for going un

Speed. Your own prefent folly, and her paffing deformity: For he, being in love, could not fee to garter his hofe; and you, being in love, cannot fee to put on your hofe.

Val. Belike, boy, then you are in love: for laft morning you could not fee to wipe my fhoes.

Speed. True, Sir, I was in love with my bed; I thank you, you fwing'd me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you for yours.

Val. In conclufion, I ftand affected to her.

Speed. I would you were fet, fo your affection would. cease.

Val. Laft night fhe injoin'd me to write fome lines to one fhe loves.

Speed. And have you?

Val. I have.

Speed. Are they not lamely writ?

Val. No, boy, but as well as I can do them:

Peace, here fhe comes.

Enter Silvia.

Speed. Oh excellent motion! Oh exceeding puppet!! Now will he interpret to her. (3):

Val

(3) Oh! excellent motion, &c.] I think this paffage requires a note, as every reader does not know, that moti on, in the language of Shakespeare's days, fignifies puppet. _In

Bens

Val. Madam and miftrefs, a thousand good morrows. Speed. Oh! 'give ye good ev'n; here's a million of

manners.

Sil. Sir Valentine and fervant, to you two thoufand. Speed. He fhould give her intereft; and fhe gives it him.

Val. As you injoin'd me, I have writ your letter,
Unto the fecret, nameless, friend of yours;
Which I was much unwilling to proceed in,
But for my duty to your ladyship.

Sil. I thank you, gentle fervant (4); 'tis very clerkly. done.

Val. Now truft me, madam, it came hardly off: For being ignorant to whom it goes,

I writ at random, very doubtfully.

Sil. Perchance, you think too much of fo much pains?

Val. No, madam; fo it fteed you, I will write, Please you command, a thousand times as much. And yet

Sil. A pretty period; well, I guess the sequel; And yet I will not name it; and yet I care not; And yet take this again; and yet I thank you; Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more. Speed. And yet you will; and yet, another yet. [Afide Val. What means your ladyfhip? do you not like it?

Ben Johnson's Bartholemew Fair, it is frequently used in that fenfe, or rather, perhaps, to fignify a puppet fhow; the mafter whereof may be properly faid to be an interpreter, as being the explainer of the inarticulate language of the actors: the fpeech of the fervant: is an allufion to that practice, and he means to fay, that Silvia is a puppet, and that Valentine is to interpret to, or rather, for her.

Mr. HAWKINS.

(4) Here Silvia calls her lover fervant. And again, fhe calls him gentle fervant; this was the language f ladies to their lovers, at the time when Shakespeare wrote.

Mr. HAWKINS.

Sil. Yes, yes, the lines are very quaintly writ;
But fince unwillingly, take them again;
Nay, take them.

Val. Madam, they are for you.

Sil. Ay, ay; you writ them, Sir, at my requeft;
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.
Sil. And when it's writ, for my fake read it over;
And if it please you, fo; if not, why fo..

Kal. If it please me, madam, what then?

Sit. Why if it please you, take it for your labour; And fo good morrow, fervant.

Speed. O jeft unfeen, infcrutable, invisible,

[Exit.

As a nofe on a man's face, or a weathercock on a fteeple!

My mafter fues to her, and the hath taught her fuitor, He being her pupil, to become her tutor :

O excellent device! was there ever heard a better?. That my mafter, being the scribe, to himself should. write the letter?

Wal. How now, Sir, what are you* reafoning with yourself?

Speed. Nay, I was rhiming; 'tis you that have the reafon.

Val. To do what?

Speed. To be a fpokefman from madam Silvia.

Val. To whom?

Speed. To yourfelf; why, fhe wooes you by a figure.
Val. What figure?

Speed. By a letter, I fhould fay..

Val. Why, the hath not writ to me?

Speed. What need fhe,

When the hath made you write to yourself?

Why, do you not perceive the jeft ?

Val. No, believe me.

* That is difcourfing, talking. An Italianism.

Speed.

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

word.

Val. She gave me none, except an angry Speed. Why, the hath given you a letter. Val. That's the letter I writ to her friend. Speed. And that letter hath the deliver'd, and there's an end.

Val. I would it were no worse.

Speed. I'll warrant you, 'tis as well.

"For often have you writ to her, and fhe in modefty, "Or elfe for want of idle time, could not again reply; "Or fearing else fome meffenger, that might her mind difcover,

"Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto "her lover."

All this I fpeak in print; for in print I found it.-
Why mufe you, Sir? 'tis dinner time.

Val. I have din'd.

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

SCENE II..

Changes to Julia's Houfe at Verona.

Enter Protheus and Julia.

Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia.
Jul. I muft, where is no remedy.

Pro. When poffibly I can, I will return.

Jul. If you turn not, you will return the fooner:

Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's fake.

[Giving a ring Pra. Why then we'll make exchange; here, take you:

this.com

ful. And feal the bargain with a holy kifs.

Pro. Here is my hand for my true conftancy;

And when that hour o'erflips me in the day,

Wherein

Wherein I figh not, Julia, for thy fake;
The next enfuing hour fome foul mifchance
Torment me, for my love's forgetfulness!
My father stays my coming; answer not:
The tide is now; nay, not thy tide of tears;
That tide will stay me longer, than I should:

[Exit Julia. Julia, farewel.-What! gone without a word? Ay, so true love should do; it cannot speak; For truth hath better deeds, than words to grace it. Enter Panthion.

Pan. Sir Protheus, you are ftaid for.

Pro. Go; Icome.

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

SCENE III.

Changes to a Street.

Enter Launce, with his Dog Crab.

Laun. Nay, 'twill 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 fon, and am going with Sir Protheus to the Imperial's court. I think, Crab my dog be the fowrestnatur'd dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my fifter crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity; yet did not this cruel-hearted cur fhed one tear! he is a ftone, a very pebble-stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a few would have wept, to have feen our parting, why, my grandam having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll fhow you the manner of it: this fhoe is my father: no, this left fhoe is my father; no, no, this left shoe is my mother; nay, that cannot be fo neither; yes, it is fo, it is fo; it hath the worfer fale; this fhoe with the hole in it, is my mother, and

this