SCENE 1.

An open place in Verona.

Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS. Val. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus; Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits: Wer'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 sluggardiz'd 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 bead's-man, 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 swom the Hellespont.
Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the.
boots.

Val. No, I'll not, for it boots thee not.
Pro.
Val.

What?

To be

In love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks,

With heart-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 elsc
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, fare-
well.
[Exit Valentine.

·Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love: He leaves his friends, to dignify them more; I leave myself, my friends, and all for love. Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphos'd me; Made me neglect my studies, lose my time, War with good counsel, set the world at nought; Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought.

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.

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.

The same.

SCENE II.

Exeunt.

Garden of Julia's house.

Enter JULIA and LUCETTA.

Jul. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, Would'st 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 mind

According to

shallow simple skill. my 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.

Luc. What would your ladyship? Jul. Is it near dinner-time? Luc. I would it were; That you might kill your stomach on your meat, And not upon your maid.

Jul.

So gingerly? Luc.

Jul.

Nothing.

What is't you took up

Why did'st 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 con

cerns,

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

[Tears the letter. papers lie:

Go, get you gone; and let the
You would be fingering them, to anger me.
Luc. She makes it strange; but she would
be best pleas'd

To be so anger'd with another letter. [Exit. 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 throughly
heal'd;

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.

Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO.

Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that,

Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pant.'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. Ant. Why, what of him?

Pant. 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; Some, to the studious universities. For any, or for all these exercises, He said, that Proteus, your son, was meet; And did request mc, to impórtune you, 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 try'd, and tutor'd in the world:
Experience is by industry atchiev'd,
And perfected by the swift course of time:
Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him?
Pant. I think, your lordship is not ignorant,
How his companion, youthful Valentine,
Attends the emperor in his royal court.
Ant. I know it well.

Pant. 'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither:

There shall he practice tilts and tournaments,
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 ad

vis'd:

And, that thou may'st perceive how well. I like it,

Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed;
For what I will, I will, and there an end.
I am resolv'd, 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 am 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.

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 belov❜d,
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:

[Exeunt Ant. and Pant, Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire, for fear of

burning;

And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd:

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 shows all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away!

SCENE I.

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? Specd. Marry, by these special marks: First, you have learned, like sir Proteus, to wreath your arms like a male-content; to relish a lovesong, like a Robin-red-breast; 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 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.