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Besides, thy staying will a bridge thy life.
Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that ;
And manage it against despairing thoughts.
Thy letters may be here, tho' thou art hence,
Which, being writ to.me, shall be deliver'd
Ev'n in the milk-white bosom of thy love.
The time now serves not to expoftulate ;
Come, I'll convey thee through the city-gate;
And, ere I

part

with chee, confer at large Of all that may concern thy love-affairs : As thou lov't 'Silvia, tho' not for thyself, Regard thy danger, and along with me.

Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seeft my boy,
Bid him make hafte, and meet me at the north-gate.

Pro. Go, Sisrah, find him out: come, Valentine !
Val. O my dear Silvia ! hapless Valentine !

(Exeunt Val. and Pro. 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 'tis I love, and yet 'tis a woman; but what woman I will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milk-maid ; yet ’ris not a maid, for the hath had goffips; yet 'tis a maid, for she is her master's maid and serves for wages ; the bath 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 the better than a jade. Item, the can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands.

Enter Speed. Speed. How now, lignior Launca ? what news with your mastership? Laun. With my master's thip? why, it is at sea. (12)

Speed. (12) With my mastership : wuby, it is at sea.] These poetical Editors are pleasant Geatlemca to let this pass without any fuspicion.

For

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Speed. Well, your old vice still; miftake the words
What news then in your paper ?
Laun. The blackest news that ever thou heard’At

.
Speed. Why, man, how black?
Laun. Why, as black as ink.
Speed. Let me read them.
Laun. Fy on thee, jolt-head, thou can'ft not read.
Speed. Thou lyest, I can.
Laun. I will try thee; tell me this, who begot thee !
Speed. Marry, the son of my grand-father.

Laun, O illiterate loiterer, it was the son of thy grand-mother; this proves, that thou canft 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, me can sowe.
Laun. That's as much as to say, can be fo?
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 to be wash'd and scour'd..

Speed. Item, she can spin.

Laun. Then may I set the world on wheels, when fe 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.
For how does Launce mistake the word ? Specd asks him about his
mastership, and he replies to it litteratim. But then how was bis
mastership at sea, and on sore too? The addition of a letter and a
note of Apostrophe make Launce both miltake the word, and sets the
pun right: It restores, indeed, but a mean joke; but, without it,
there is no sense in the paffage. Besides, it is in character with the
sest of the scene ; and I'dare be confident, the Poet's own conceil

.

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Speed

Speed. Here follow her vices. Laun. Close at the heels of her virtues. Speed. Item, she is not to be kift fafting, in respect of her breath.

Laun. Well, that fault may be mended with a break. fast : read on.

Speed. Item, the hath a sweet mouth.
Laun. That makes amends for her four breath.
Speed. Item, she doth talk in her sleep.

Laun. It's no matter for that, fo the fleep not in her talk,

Speed. Item, she is slow in words.

Laun. O villain ! that set down among her vices ! to be flow 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, the is curft.
Laun. Well; the best is, she hath no teeth to bite.
Speed. Item, She will often praise her liquor.

Laun. If her liquor be good, the 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 now of; of her purse she shall not, for that I'll keep shut; now of another thing the may, and that cannot i help. Well, proceed.

Speed. Item, she hath more hairs than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.

Laun. Stop here; I'll have her; she was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that 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 falt, and therefore it is more than the falt; the hair, that covers the wit, is

more

more than the wit; for the greater hides the lesso What's next?

Speed, And more faults than bairs.
Laun. That's monstrous : oh, that that were out !
Speed. And more wealth than faults.

Laun. Why, that word makes the faults gracious : well, I'll have her; and if it be a match, as nothing is impossible

Speed. What then?

Laun. Why then will I tell thee, that thy mafter stays for thee at the north-gate.

Speed. For me?

Laun. For thee? ay; who art thou : he hath faid for a better man than thee.

Speed. And must I go to him?

Laun. Thou must run to him, for thou haft ftaid fo Jong, that going will scarce serve the turn.

Speed. Why didft not tell me sooner ! pox on your love-letters !

Laun, Now will he be swing'd for reading my letter: an unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into fecrets.--I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction.

[Exeunt.

Enter Duke and Thurio.
Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not, but that the will love you,
Now Valentine is banish'd from her fight.

Thu, Since his exile she hath despis'd me most,
Forsworn my company, and rail'd at me,
That I am desperate of obtaining her.

Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure
Trenched 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.

Enter Protheus.
How now, Sir Protheus? Is your countryman,
According to our proclamation, gone ?

Pro. Gone, my good Lord.
Duke. My daughter takes his going heavily.

Pre.

Pro. A little time, my Lord, will kill that grief.

Duke. So I believe; bat Thurio chinks not so.
Protheus, the good conceit I hold of thee,
(For thou haft town some fign 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'ft, how willingly I would effe& The match between Sir Thurio and my daughter.

Pro. I do, my Lord.

Duke. And also, I do think, thou art not ignorant How the opposes her against my will.

Pre. She did, my Lord, when Valentine was here.

Duke. Ay; and perversely the perfevers so. What might we do to make the girl forget The love of Valentine, and love Sr Thurio

Pro. The best way is to slander Valentine With falfhood, cowardice, and poor descent: Three things, that women highly hold in hate.

Duke. Ay, but she'll think, that it is spoke in hite.

Pro. Ay; if his enemy deliver it:
Therefore it must, with circumstance, be spoken
By one, whom she efteemeth as his friend.
Duke. Then you must undertake to flander him.
Pro. And that, my Lord, I Mall 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 intreated to it by your friend.

Pro. You have prevail'd, my Lirl: if I can do it, By ought that I can speak in his dispraise, She shall not long continue love to him. But say, this weed her love from Valentine, (13) It follows not, that she will love Sir Thurio.

(13) But say, this weed ber love-1 This cast of reasoning very near resembles that of Davus in the Andria of Terence, Act 2. Sc. 2,

Ridiculum Caput!
Quafi necel« fit, ji buic non dat, te illam uxorem ducere.
Vol.I.

Tbex

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