Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

Speed. Oh! 'give ye good ev'n; here's a million of

manners.

Sil. Sir Valentine and fervant, to you two thousand. Speed. He fhould give her intereft; and fhe gives it him.

Val. As you injoin'd me, I have writ your letter,
Unto the fecret, nameless, friend of yours;
Which I was much unwilling to proceed in,
But for my duty to your lady ship.

Sil. I thank you, gentle fervant; 'tis very clerkly done.

Val. Now trust 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, so it steed 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. [Aside. Val. What means your ladyship? do you not like it? Si!. 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 pleafe me, madam, what then?
Sil. Why if it please you, take it for your
And fo good morrow, fervant.

Speed. O jeft unfeen, infcrutable, invisible,

labour;

[Exit.

As

As a nofe on a man's face, or a weathercock on a

fteeple!

My mafter fues to her, and she hath taught her fuitorg 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?

Val. How now, Sir, what are you* reafoning with yourself?

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

Val. To do what?

Speed. To be fpokefman 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, he hath not writ to me?

Speed. What need she,

When he hath made you write to yourself?

Why, do you not perceive the jeft?

Val. No, believe me.

self?

Speed. No believing you, indeed, Sir: but did you

perceive her earnest ?

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

Val. That's the letter I writ to her friend.

Speed. And that letter hath fhe deliver'd, and there's

an end.

Val. I would it were no worfe.

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

"For often have you writ to her, and fhe in modefty, "Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply 3 "Or fearing elfe fome meffenger, that might her mind "difcover.

"Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto "her lover."

• That is difcourfing, talking. An Italianifm.

[blocks in formation]

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 by my visuals, and would fain have meat: Oh be not like your miftrefs; be moved, be moved. [Exeunt

[blocks in formation]

Changes to Julia's House at Verona.

Enter Protheus and Julia.

Pro. HAVE patience, gentle Julia.

[ocr errors]

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 conftancy; And when that hour o'erflips 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, farewel.What! gone without a word? Ay, fo true love fhould do; it cannot speak ; For truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace it.

Enter Panthion.

Pen. Sir Protheus, you are ftaid for.

Pro

Pro. Go; I come.

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

SCENE III.

Changes to a Street.

Enter Launce, with his dog Crab.

hour

Laun. NAY, 'twill be this nou of the Loaves have

ere I 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 fowreft-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 house 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 few 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, she is as white as a lilly, 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, and I am myself; ay, fo, fo; now come I to my father;

2 I am the dog, &c.] This paffage is much confufed, and of confufion the prefent reading makes no end. Sir J. 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 reason the Author intended to bestow on Launce's foliloquy.

father,

father, your bleffing; now fhould not the fhoe fpeak a word for weeping; now fhould I kifs my father; well, he weeps on; now come I to my mother; oh that she 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 fpeaks a word; but fee, how I lay the dust with my tears.

Enter Panthion.

Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy mafter is fhipp'd, and thou art to poft after with oars: what's the matter? why weep'it thou, man? away, afs, you will lofe 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.

Pant. What's the unkindeft tide?

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

Laun. For fear thou fhould'ft lofe thy tongue.
Pant. Where should I lofe my tongue?

Laun. In thy tale?

Pant. In thy tail?

why

Loun. Lofe the flood, and the voyage, and the mafter, and the fervice, and the tide ? why, man, if

3 Like a wood Woman!] The first Folio's agree in would woman; for which, because it was a Myfery to Mr. Pope, he has unmeaningly fubitituted ould WoBut it must be writ, or at leaft understood, wood Woman.

man.

i. e. crazy, frantick with Grief; or diftracted, from any other Caufe. The word is very frequently ufed in Chaucer; and fometimes writ, wood, fometimes, wode. THEOBALD.

the

« AnteriorContinuar »