Sil. I thank you, gentle fervant: '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 ftead 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? 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 request; 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 ladyfhip another. Sil. And when it's writ, for my fake read it over: And if it please you, fo: if not, why, fo. Val. If it please me, madam, what then? Sil. Why if it please you, take it for

And fo good-morrow, fervant.

your labour:

[Exit.

Speed. O jeft unfeen, infcrutable, invifible, As a nofe on a man's face, or a weathercock on a

steeple!

My mafter fues to her; and fhe 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 fcribe, to himself fhould

write the letter?

127

Val. How now, Sir, what are you 5 reasoning with yourself?

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

reason.

Val. To do what?

Speed. To be a spokesman from madam Silvia.
Val. To whom?

Speed. To yourself; 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 fhe made you write to yourself?

Why, do you not perceive the jest?

Val. No, believe me.

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

Val. She gave me none, except an angry word.
Speed. Why, the hath given you a letter.

you

Val. That's the letter I writ to her friend. Speed. And that letter hath fhe deliver'd, and there an end.

Val. I would it were no worse.

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

For often you have writ to her; and she in modefty,
Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply;
Or fearing else fome messenger, that might her mind dif-

cover,

Herfelf bath 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

reafoning with yourself?] That is, difcourfing, talking.

An Italianifm. JOHNSON.

by

by my victuals, and would fain have meat: Oh be not like your mistress; be moved, be moved.

Enter Protheus and Julia.

Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia.
Jul. I muft, where is no remedy.
Pro. When poffibly I can, I will return.

[Exeunt.

Jul. If you turn not, you will return the fooner: Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's fake.

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

Jul. And feal the bargain with a holy kiss. Pro. Here is my hand for my true conftancy; And when that hour o'er-flips me in the day, Wherein I figh not, Julia, for thy fake; The next enfuing hour fome foul mischance 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, farewell.What! gone without a word? Ay, fo true love fhould do; it cannot speak; For truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace

Enter Panthino.i

Pan. Sir Protheus, you are ftaid for.

Pro. Go; I come, I come:

it.

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

SCENE

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 foureft natur'd dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my fifter crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our houfe in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur fhed one tear: he is a stone, a very pebble-stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew 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 show you the manner of it: this fhoe is my father;-no, this left fhoe is my father;-no, no, this left fhoe is my mother;-nay, that cannot be fo neither;—yes, it is fo, it is fo; it hath the worfer fole: this fhoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father; a vengeance on't, there 'tis : now, Sir, this staff is my fifter; for, look you, fhe is as white as a lily, and as fmall as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog-no, the dog is himself, and, I am the dog:-oh, the dog is me,

I am the dog, &c.] A fimilar thought occurs in a play of elder date than this. See A Chriftian turn'd Turk, 1612.

2

66

you fhall ftand for the lady, you for her dog, and "I the page; you and the dog looking one upon "another: the page prefents himfelf." STEEVENS. I am the dog, &c.] This paffage is much confused, and of confusion the prefent reading makes no end. Sir T. Hanmer reads, I am the dog, no, the dog is himself and I am me, the dog is the dog, and I am myself. This certainly is more reasonable, but I know not how much reafon the author intended to bestow on Launce's foliloquy. JOHNSON.

VOL. I.

I

and

and I am myself, ay, fo, fo. Now come I to my father; Father, your bleffing; now should not the fhoe fpeak a word for weeping; now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on: now come I to my mother;-oh that fhe could fpeak now!-3 like a wood woman! well, I kifs her;-why there 'tis ; here's my mother's breath up and down: now come I to my fifter: mark the moan fhe makes: now the dog all this while fheds not a tear, nor speaks a word; but fee how I lay the duft with my tears.

Enter Panthino.

Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy mafter is fhipp'd, and thou art to poft after with oars. What's the matter? why weep'ft thou, man? Away, afs; you will lose the tide if you tarry any longer.

Laun. It is no matter if the ty'd were loft; for it is the unkindeft ty'd that ever any man ty❜d. Pan. What's the unkindeft tide?

Laun. Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my dog. Pan. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lofe the flood; and, in lofing the flood, lofe thy voyage; and, in lofing thy voyage, lofe thy mafter; and, in lofing thy mafter, lofe thy fervice; and, in lofing thy fervice,doft thou ftop my mouth?

3

Laun. For fear thou fhould'ft lofe thy tongue.
Pan. Where fhould I lofe my tongue?
Laun. In thy tale.

Pan. In thy tail?

Laun. Lofe the tide, and the voyage, and the

like a wood woman!] The first folios agree in would-woman; for which, because it was a mystery to Mr. Pope, he has unmeaningly fubftituted ould woman. But it must be writ, or at leaft understood, wood woman, i. e. Crazy, frantic with grief; or distracted, from any other caufe. The word is very frequently used in Chaucer; and fometimes writ wood, fometimes wode. THEOBALD.

Lofe the tide,] Thus the old copy. The modern editors read-the flood. STEEVENS,

mafter,