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Jul. Why 'not on Proteus, as of all the rest?
'because I think him so.
Peruse this 'paper, madam. [Serier And this is the letter which Proteus had entrusted to Speed, who had not delivered it to the mistress, but to the maid. Julia, who really loved Proteus, had ever pretended to be indifferent to his suit; and she was now angry that her maid should thus have discovered her lover's correspondence : Jul. [Readinesshe] “To Julia.” Say, from whom ? Luc.
That the 'contents will show. Jul. Say, say; who gave it 'thee? Luc. Sir Valentine's Page; and sent, I think, from Proteus:
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?
Or else return no more into my sight.
you may 'ruminate. Jul. ... And yet, I would I had 'o'erlooked the letter.
It were a shame to call her back again,
her, to a fault for which I 'chid her.
"go-between, match maker.
a O. R. fire.
c wliat a fool.
Which they would have the profferer construe, "Ay."
What 'would your ladyship?
I would it were ;
And 'not upon your maid.
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.
Some love of yours hath writ to you in 'rhyme ;
Best 'sing it, to the tune of “ Light o' love."
This babble shall not 'henceforth trouble me!She tears the prized communication in pieces, and throws them on the ground.
Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie:
You would be fingering them to anger me ! Luc. ... She makes it 'strange; but she would be 'best
To be 'so angered-with 'another letter.
O hateful hands! to 'tear such loving words.
b forgiveness. d carefully. e the name or an old ballad, fthoroughly.
Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away,
Now kiss, embrace, contend, -do what you will! And then, to make amends to Proteus, she writes a very kind and affectionate response.
In the meantime, Antonio, the father of Proteus, having heard of young Valentine's advancement at the Duke of Milan's Court, determines that, in order to see the world,'his son should also proceed thither ;-when he sees the youth coming toward him, rapturously reading the reply he has just received from his dear Julia. Pro. Sweet love! sweet lipes ! sweet life!
Here is her 'hand, the agent of her 'heart;
O heavenly Julia !
Of commendations, sent from Valentine,
Delivered by a friend that came from him.
How 'happily he lives, how well belov’d,
Wishing me 'with him, 'partner of his fortune.
And 'not depending on 'his friendly wisha.
Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed,
bO. R. gracéd.
Excuse it not ; for I am peremptory.
No more of 'stay ; tomorrow thou must 'go.- Campo Pro. Thus have I shunned the 'fire, for fear of burning;
And drenched me in the 'sea,—where I am drowned!
The uncertain glory of an 'April day;
And, by-and-by, ... a 'cloud takes all away!
With the rapidity of thought, we precede Proteus on his journey from Verona; and at once find ourselves in Milan, the old capital of the Austrian Kingdom of Italy. Ha! what splendid building is this? O, it is the ducal palace at Milan. And who approaches ? It is our ungallant gentleman from Verona-Valentine: now a gay courtier, and in high favour with the Duke. What!—he is raving about a glove, which his servant Speed has just picked up: he kisses, kisses, kisses it! Is he in love? Can this be the contemner of little tricksy Cupid ? Val. Sweet ornament, that decks a thing divine ! [
Ah! Silvia, Silvia ! Speed. [calling.] Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia !—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 have
learned, like Sir Proteus, to 'wreathe your arms, like a malcontent; to relish a 'love-song, like a robin-redbreast; to walk 'alone, like one that had the pestilence; to 'sigh, like a school-boy 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 *inserted word. bto fold moodily. Otakes food by medical direction. day-November 1st, the beginning of winter (when beggars are most clamorous)
d All Saints'
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 so metamorphosed with a 'mistress, that, when I look on you, I can hardly think
you my master: 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. Oh! I
have 'loved her ever since I 'saw her, and 'still I see her
beautiful! Speed. If you 'love her, you 'cannot see her, because love
is 'blind. O, that you had 'mine eyes; or your 'own eyes 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: for 'he being in love, could
not see to garter his hose; and 'you being in love, can
not 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 'swingedo me for my love, which makes me
the bolder to chide 'you for 'yours. Val. Last night, she enjoined me to write some lines to
6 One she loves." Speed. And 'have you? Val. I have. Peace! here she comes.
And the sweet simpering Silvia enters tripping along-a remarkably pretty girl !-and daughter of a Duke, the great Duke of Milan. Now for a little courtly conversation, according to" Euphues and his England.” Val. Madam, and mistress!... a thousand good-morrows! Sil. Sir Valentine, and servant ! to you 'two thousand. Val. As you enjoined me, I have 'writ your letter
Unto the secret nameless friend of yours;
But for my duty to your ladyship.
For, being ignorant to 'whom it goes,
bone of the marks of love-dressing slovenly. c whipped. a by John Lyly, 1581.
8 with difficulty.
o an obsolete name for a lover.
flike & scholar.