Anthonio, Father to Protheus. Thurio, a foolish Rival to Valentine. Speed, a clownish Servant to Valentine. Launce, the like to Protheus. Panthion, Servant to Anthonio. Julia, a Lady of Verona, beloved of Protheus. Silvia, the Duke of Milan's Daughter, beloved of Va lentine. Lucetta, Waiting woman to Julia. Servants, Muficians. The SCENE, fometimes in Verona; fometimes in Milan; and on the Frontiers of Mantua. Of this play we have no edition more early than that of 1623 in Folio. C An open Place in Verona. Enter Valentine and Protheus. VALENTINE. EASE to perfuade, my loving Protheus; Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits; Wer't not, affection chains thy tender days To the fweet glances of thy honour'd love, I rather I rather would intreat thy company, Mr. Upton peremptorily determines, that if any proof can be drawn from manner and ftyle, this play must be fent packing and feek for its parent elsewhere. How otherwife, fays he, do painters diftinguifh copies from originals, and have not authours their peculiar ftyle and manner from which a true critick can form as unerring a judgment as a painter? I am afraid this illuftration of a critick's science will not prove what is defired. A painter knows a copy from an original by rules fomewhat refembling thefe by which criticks know a tranflation, which if it be literal, and literal it must be to refemble the copy of a picture, will be easily diftinguished. Copies are known from originals even when the painter copies his own picture; fo if an authour fhould literally tranflate his work he would lofe the manner of an original. Mr. Upton confounds the copy of a picture with the imitation of a painter's manner. Copies are cafily known, but good imitations are not detected with equal certainty, and are, by the best judges, often mistaken. Nor is it true that the writer has always peculiarities equally diftinguifhable with thofe of the painter. The peculiar manner of each arifes from the defire, natural to every performer, of facilitating his fubfequent works by recurrence to his former ideas; this recurrence produces that repeti tion which is called habit. The painter, whofe work is partly intellectual and partly manual, has habits of the mind, the eye and the hand, the writer has only habits of the mind. Yet, fome painters have differed as much from themfelves as from any other; and I have been told, that there is little refemblance between the firft works of Raphael and the last. The fame variation may be expected in writers; and if it be true, as it feems, that they are lefs fubject to habit, the difference between their works may be yet greater. But by the internal marks of a compofition we may difcover the authour with probability, though feldom with certainty. When I read this play I cannot but think that I discover both in the ferious and ludicrous fcenes, the language and fentiments of Shakespear. It is not indeed one of his most powerful effufions, it has neither many diverfities of character, nor ftriking delineations of life, but it abounds in grupai beyond most of his plays, and few have more lines or paffages which, fingly confidered, are eminently beautiful. I am yet inclined to believe that it was not very fuccefsful, and fufpect that it has escaped corruption, only because being feldom played it was lefs expofed to the hazards of tran fcription. Wear Wear out thy youth with fhapeless idleness. * Pro. Wilt thou be gone? fweet Valentine adieu; When thou doft meet good hap; and in thy danger, Commend thy Grievance to my holy prayer; Val. And on a love-book pray for my fuccefs. Pro. That's a deep ftory of a deeper love; Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots. 3 Pre. What? Val. To be in love, where fcorn is bought with groans; Coy looks, with heart-fore fighs; one fading moment's mirth, With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights. Or make a laughing Stock of me; don't play upon me. The French have a Phrafe, Bailler foin en Corne; which Cotgrave (nus interprets, To give one the Boots; to. fell him a Bargain. THEOBALD. 4 However, but a folly] This love will end in a foolish action, Or else a wit by folly vanquished. Pro. So, by your circumftance, you call me fool. Val. So, by your circumftance, 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 fo yoaked by a fool, Methinks, fhould not be chronicled for wife. Pro. Yet writers fay, as in the fweetest bud The eating canker dwells; fo eating love Inhabits in the fineft wits of all. Val. And writers fay, as the most forward bud Even fo by love the young and tender wit Once more, adieu: my father at the road Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. Val. Sweet Protheus, no: now let us take our leave. At Milan, let me hear from thee by letters Of thy fuccefs in love; and what news elfe Betideth here in abfence of thy friend: And I likewife will vifit thee with mine. Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan! Val. As much to you at home; and fo, farewel ! [Exit, Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love; He leaves his friends to dignify them more; I leave myfelf, my friends, and all for love. Thou, Julia, thou haft metamorphos'd me; Made me neglect my ftudies, lofe my time, to produce which you are long to spend your wit, or it will end in the lofs of your wit, which will be over-powered by the folly of love. War |