Or fearing else fome messenger, that might her mind discover,
Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover.—
All this I speak in print; for in print I found it.—
Why mufe you, fir? 'tis dinner-time.

Val. I have din'd.

Speed. Ay, but hearken, fir: though the cameleon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat: O, be not like your mistress; be moved, be moved. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Verona. A Room in Julia's Houfe.

Enter PROTEUS and JULIA.

Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia.
Jul. I muft, where is no remedy.

Pro. When poffibly I can, I will return.

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 constancy;
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 mifchance
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:

Julia, farewell.-What! gone without a word?
Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak;
For truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace it.

Enter PANTHINO.

Pan. Sir Proteus, you are ftaid for.

Pro. Go; I come, I come :

Alas! this parting ftrikes poor lovers dumb.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The fame. A Street.

Enter LAUNCE, leading a dog.

Laun. Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault: I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with fir Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think, Crab my dog be the foureft-natured dog that lives : my mother weeping, my father wailing, my fifter crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruelhearted cur fhed one tear: he is a ftone, a very pebbleitone, 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, fir, this staff

is

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,—O, the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so. Now come I to my father; Father, your bleffing; now fhould not the shoe speak a word for weeping; now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on :-now come I to my mother, (O, that she could speak now!) like a wood woman ;-well, I kiss her;-why there 'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down now come I to my filter; 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 hipped, and thou art to post 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 lost; for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever any man ty’d.

Pan. What's the unkindest tide?

Laun. Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my dog.

Pan. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lose the flood; and, in lofing the flood, lose thy voyage; and, in lofing thy voyage, lose thy master; and, in losing thy mafter, lose thy service; and, in lofing thy fervice,-Why dost thou stop my mouth?

Laun. For fear thou fhould't lose 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 master,

and the fervice? The tide !-Why, man, if the river were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the wind were down, I could drive the boat with my fighs.

Pan. Come, come away, man; I was fent to call thee. Laun. Sir, call me what thou dareft.

Pan. Wilt thou go?

Laun. Well, I will go.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Milan.

An Apartment in the Duke's Palace.

Enter VALENTINE, SILVIA, THURIO, and SPEED.

Sil. Servant

Val. Mistress?

Speed. Mafter, fir Thurio frowns on you.

Val. Ay, boy, it's for love.

Speed. Not of you.

Val. Of my mistress then.

Speed. 'Twere good, you knock'd him.

Sil. Servant, you are fad.

Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so.

Thu. Seem you that you are not?

Val. Haply, I do.

Thu. So do counterfeits.

Val. So do you.

Thu. What feem I, that I am not?

Val. Wife.

Thu. What inftance of the contrary?

Val. Your folly.

Thu. And how quote you my folly?
Val. I quote it in your jerkin.
Thu. My jerkin is a doublet.

Val. Well, then, I'll double your folly.

Thu. How?

Sil. What, angry, fir Thurio? do you change colour? Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of cameleon. Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood, than live in your air.

Val. You have faid, fir.

Thu. Ay, fir, and done too, for this time.

Val. I know it well, fir; you always end ere you begin. Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly fhot off.

Val. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver.

Sil. Who is that, fervant?

Val. Yourself, fweet lady; for you gave the fire: fir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyfhip's looks, and fpends what he borrows, kindly in your company.

Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me, I shall make your wit bankrupt.

Val. I know it well, fir: you have an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other treasure to give your followers; for it appears by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words.

Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more; here comes my fa. ther.

Enter Duke.

Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard befet.

Sir Valentine, your father's in good health :

What fay you to a letter from your friends

Of much good news?

Val.

My lord, I will be thankful

To any happy meffenger from thence.

Duke. Know you Don Antonio, your countryman ?