am not welcome. I reckon this always-that a man is never undone, till he be hanged; nor never wel. come to a place, till some certain shot be paid, and the hostess say, welcome.

Speed. Come on, you mad-cap, I'll to the alehouse with you presently; where for one shot of five pence, thou shalt have five thousand welcomes. But, sirrah, how did thy master part with madam Julia ?

Laun. Marry, after they closed in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest.

Speed. But shall she marry him?
Laun, No.
Speed. How then? Shall he marry her?
Laun. No, neither.
Speed. What, are they broken?
Laun. No, they are both as whole as a fish.

Speed. Why then, how stands the matter with them?

Laun. Marry, thus; when it stands well with him, it stands well with her.

Speed. What an ass art thou! I understand thee not.

Laun. What a block art thou, that thou canst not! My staff understands me.

Speed. What thou say'st ? Laun. Ay, and what I do too: look thee, I'll but ean, and my staff understands me. Speed. It stands under thee, indeed.

Laun. Why, stand under and understand is all one.

Speed. But tell me true, will’t be a match?

Laun. Ask my dog : if he say, ay, it will; if he say, no, it will; if he shake his tail, and say no thing, it will.

Speed. The conclusion is then, that it will.

Laun. Thou shalt never get such a secret from me, but by a parable.

Speed. 'Tis well that I get it so. But, Launce,

how say'st thou, that tly master is become a notable lover?

Laun. I never knew him otherwise.
Specd. Than how?

Laun. A notable lubber, as tliou reportest him to be.

Speed. Why, thou whorson ass, thou mistakest

me.

Laun. Why, fool, I meant vot thee; I meant thy

; master.

Speed. I tell thee, my master is become a hot lover.

Laun. Why, I tell thee, I care not though he burn himself in love. If thou wilt go with me to the ale house, so; if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian.

Speed. Why?

Laun. Because thou hast not so much charity in thee, as to go to the ale with a Christian: Wilt thou

go?

Speed. At thy service.

(Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

The same. An apartment in the palace.

Enter Proteus.

Pro. To leave my Julia, shall I be forsworn; To love fair Silvia, shall I be forsworn; To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn; And even that power, which gave me first my oath, Provokes me to this threefold perjury. - Love bade me swear, and love bids me forswear: O sweet-suggesting* love, if thou hast sinn'd, Teach me, thy tempted subject, to excuse it. At first I did adore a twinkling star,

* Tempting.

F.

But now I worship a celestial sun.
Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken.
And he wants wit, that wants resolved will
To learn his wit to exchange the bad for better.
Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad,
Whose sovereignty so oft thou hast preferr'd
With twenty thousand soul-confirrning oaths.
I cannot leave to love, and yet I do;
But there I leave to love, where I should love.
Julia I lose, and Valentine I lose;
If I keep them, I needs must lose myself ;
If I lose them, thus find I by their loss,
For Valentine, myself; for Julia, Silvia.
I to myself am dearer than a friend ;
For love is still more precious in itself:
And Silvia, witness heaven, that made her fair!
Shows Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.
I will forget that Julia is alive,
Rememb'ring that my love to her is dead;
And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,
Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.
I cannot now prove constant to myself,
Without some treachery used to Valentine:-
This night he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celestial Silvia's chamber-window;
Myself in counsel, his competitor*:
Now presently I'll give her father notice
of their disguising, and pretendedt flight;
Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentive;
For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter:
But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross,
By some sly trick, blunt Thurio's dull proceeding,
Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift,
As thou hast lent me wit to plot this drift! (Exit.

SCENE VII.

Verona. A room in Julia's house.

Enter Julia and Lucetta,

Jul. Counsel, Lucetta ; gentle girl, assist me!
And, even in kind love, I do conjure thee,
Who art the table wherein all my thoughts
Are visibly character'd and evgrav’d,-
To lesson me: and tell me some good mean,
How, with my honour, I may undertake
A journey to my loving Proteus.
· Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long.

Jul. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary
To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;
Much less shall she, that hath love's wings to fly;
And when the fight is made to one so dear,
Of such divine perfection, as sir Proteus.

Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return.
Jul. O, know'st thou not, his looks are my soul's

food ?
Pity the dearth that I have pined in,
By longing for that food so long a time.
Didst thou but know the inly touch of love,
Thou would'st as soon go kindle fire with snow,
As seek to quench the fire of love with words.

Luc. I do not seek to queuch your love's hot fire;
But qualify the fire's extreme rage,
Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.
Jul. The more thou dam'st* it up, the more it

buras; The current, that with gentle murmur glides, Thau know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage But, when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with the enamel'd stones,

* Closest.

Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage ;
And so by many winding nooks he strays,
With willing sport, to the wild ocean.
Then let me go, and hinder not my course:
I'll be as patient as a gentle stream,
And make a pastime of each weary step,
Till the last step have brought me to my love;
And there I'll rest, as, after much turmoil*,
A blessed soul doth in Elysium.

Luc. But in what habit will you go along?

Jul. Not like a woman; for I would prevent
The loose encounters of lascivious men:
Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds
As may beseem some well-reputed page.

Luc. Why then your ladyship must cut your hair.

Jul. No, girl ; I'll knit it up in silken strings, With twenty odd-conceited true love knots : To be fantastic may become a youth Of greater time than I shall show to be. Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your

breeches? Jul. That fits as well, as tell me, good my lord, What compass will you wear your farthingale?" Vhy, even that fashion thou best lik'st, Lucetta. Luc. You must needs have them with a cod-piece,

madam. Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd.

Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin, Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on.

Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly: But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me, For undertaking so unstaid a journey! I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd. Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and go

not. Jul. Nay, that I will not.

* Trouble.