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Val. No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia ! - Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north Hath she forsworn me?
gate. Pro. No, Valentine.
Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, VAL. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me!
Valentine. What is your news?
VAL. O my dear Silvia ! hapless Valentine ! Laun. Sir, there is a proclamation that you are
[Exeunt VALENTINE and ProteUS. vanished. Laun. I am but a fool, look you ;
I Pro. That thou art banished. O, that's the have the wit to think my master is a kind of news;
a knave: but that's all one, if he be but one From hence, from Silvia, and from me, thy friend. knave.* He lives not now that knows me to be in
VAL. O, I have fed upon this woe already, love: yet I am in love ; but a team of horse shall And now excess of it will make me surfeit.
not pluck that from me; nor who 't is I love, and Doth Silvia know that I am banished ?
yet 't is a woman : but what woman, I will not tell Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom myself; and yet 't is a milkmaid ; yet ’t is not (Which, unrevers’d, stands in effectual force) a maid, for she hath had gossips : yet 't is a maid, A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears : for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages. Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd ; She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel,With them, upon her knees, her humble self ; which is much in a bare Christian. Here is the Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became cate-log (pulling out a paper] of her conditions. them,
Imprimis, She can fetch and carry. Why, a As if but now they waxed pale for woe :
horse can do no more: nay, a horse cannot fetch, But neither bended knees, pure hands held up, but only carry; therefore is she better than a jade. Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears, Item, She can milk ; look you, a sweet virtue in Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire;
a maid with clean hands.
SPEED. How now, signior Launce? what news Val. No more ; unless the next word that thou with your mastership ?
Laun. With my master's ship? why, it is at sea. Have some malignant power upon my life ;
SPEED. Well, your old vice still ; mistake the I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear,
word: What news then in your paper ? As ending anthem of my endless dolour.
Laun. The blackest news that ever thou PRO. Cease to lament for that thou canst not heard'st. help,
SPEED. Why, man, how black ? And study help for that which thou lament’st. Laun. Why, as black as ink. Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
SPEED. Let me read them. Here if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love ; Laun. Fie on thee, jolt-head ! thou canst not Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.
read. Hope is a lover's staff ; walk hence with that,
SPEED. Thou liest, I can. And manage it against despairing thoughts.
LAUN. I will try thee: tell me this: Who Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence :
begot thee? Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver'd
SPEED. Marry, the son of my grandfather. Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.
Laun. O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy The time now serves not to expostulate :
grandmother: this proves that thou canst not read. Come, I'll convey thee through the city gate ;
SPEED. Come, fool, come : try me in thy And, ere I part with thee, confer at large
paper. Of all that may concern thy love-affairs :
Laun. There ; and St. Nicholas be thy As thou lov’st Silvia, though not for thyself, Regard thy danger, and along with me.
SPEED. Imprimis, She can milk. Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my
LAUN. Ay, that she can. boy,
SPEED. Item, She brews good ale.
speed ! (1)
a If he be but one knave.] Warburton very plausibly proposed to read-"if he be but one kind.” Something, however, leading to Launce's love confession, appears to have been omitted. Possibly the poet wrote, “ But that's all one, if he be but one in lore."
The second kiare may have been repeated, repetition being a very common compositor's error, instead of the words in lore, which seem naturally enough to precede, “He lives not now that knows me to be in love."
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.
SPEED. Item, She is not to be 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 is 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 I help. Well, proceed.
SPEED. Item, She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.
a You brew good ale.)
“Our ale 's o' the best,
And each good guest
'Masque of Augurs, Ben Jonson.
b She is not to be fasting,-) So the folio. The word kissed, which is found in the modern editions, was added by Rowe.
She hath a sweet mouth.] As we now say, a liquorisk toota. d More hair than wit, - ] A well-known old English proverb. Steevens has given many instances of its occurrence in the old writers.
Laun. Stop there; I 'll have her: she was Pro. Gone, my good lord. mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that last Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously. article: rehearse that once more.
Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief. SPEED. Item, She hath more hair than wit, DUKE. So I believe ; but Thurio thinks not
LAUN. More hair than wit,-it may I l prove it: the cover of the salt hides the salt, and Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee, therefore it is more than the salt ; the hair that (For thou hast shown some sign of good desert,) covers the wit is more than the wit; for the Makes me the better to coufer with thee. greater hides the less. What 's next?
Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your grace, SPEED. And more faults than hairs, Let me not live to look upon your grace.
Laun. That 's monstrous : 0, that that were Duke. Thou know'st how willingly I would out!
effect SPEED. And more wealth than faults.
The match between sir Thurio and
my daughter. LAUN. Why, that word makes the faults Pro. I do, my lord. gracious : well, I 'll have her: and if it be a DUKE. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant match, as nothing is impossible,
How she opposes her against my will. SPEED. What then ?
Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was LAUN. Why, then will I tell thee,—that thy
here. master stays for thee at the north gate.
DUKE. Ay, and perversely she persévers so. SPEED. For me?
What might we do, to make the girl forget Laun. For thee? ay : who art thou ? he hath The love of Valentine, and love sir Thurio ? stayed for a better man than thee.
Pro. The best way is, to slander Valentine SPEED. And must I go to him ?
With falsehood, cowardice,
descent; LAUN. Thou must run to him, for thou hast Three things that women highly hold in hate. stayed so long, that going will scarce serve the DUKE. Ay, but she ʼll think that it is spoke turn.
in hate. SPEED. Why didst not tell me sooner ? 'pox Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it: of your love-letters !
[Erit. Therefore it must, with circumstance, be spoken Laun. Now will he be swinged for reading my By one whom she esteemeth as his friend, letter : an unmannerly slave, that will thrust him Duke. Then you must undertake to slander him. self into secrets !-I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's Pro. And that, my lord, I shall be loth to do: correction.
[Exit. 'T is an ill office for a gentleman ;
Especially, against his very friend.“
Therefore the office is indifferent,
Being entreated to it by your friend. Enter DUKE and THURIO; PROTEUS behind. Pro. You have prevail’d, my lord : if I can
do it, DUKE. Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not long continue love to him. Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight.
But, say this weed" her love from Valentine, Thu. Since his exile she hath despis'd me most, It follows not that she will love sir Thurio. Forsworn my company, and rail'd at me,
Thu. Therefore, as you unwind her love from That I am desperate of obtaining her.
him, DUKE. This weak impress of love is as a figure Lest it should ravel, and be good to none, Trenched in ice ; which with an hour's heat You must provide to bottom it on me ; o Dissolves to water, and doth lose his form. Which must be done by praising me as much A little time will melt her frozen thoughts, As you in worth dispraise sir Valentine. And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.
DUKE. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this How now, sir Proteus ! Is your countryman,
kind; According to our proclamation, gone?
Because we know, on Valentine's report,
à His very friend.) True friend. In modern phraseology, particular friend.
b Say this weed-) Mr. Collier's corrector reads wean; and the same substitution was made by B. Victor in his alteration of this play, 1763.
c. To bottom it on me;) A bottom of thread every housewife is
“ A bollome for your silke it seems
My letters are become,
GRANGE's Garden, 1557.
You are already love's firm votary,
Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands. And cannot soon revolt and change your mind. After your dire lamenting elegies, Upon this warrant shall you have access
Visit by night your lady's chamber-window, Where you with Silvia may confer at large ; With some sweet consort :to their instruments For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy,
Tune a deploring dump: the night's dead silence And, for your friend's sake, will be glad of you ;
Will well become such sweet complaining Where you may temper her, by your persuasion,
grievance : To hate young Valentine, and love my friend. This, or else nothing, will inherit her. Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect :
DUKE. This discipline shows thou hast been in But you, sir Thurio, are not sharp enough ;
love. You must lay lime, to tangle her desires,
Thu. And thy advice this night I'll put in By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes
practice. Should be full fraught with serviceable vows. Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver, DUKE. Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred Let us into the city presently poesy:
To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music: Pro. Say that upon the altar of her beauty I have a sonnet that will serve the turn, You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart. To give the onset to thy good advice. Write till your ink be dry ; and with your tears DUKE. About it, gentlemen. Moist it again ; and frame some feeling line, Pro. We 'll wait upon your grace till after That may discover such integrity :
supper ; For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews ; And afterward determine our proceedings. Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones, DUKE. Even now about it. I will pardon you. Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans