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Val. No, believe me.

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

Val. She gave me none, except an angry word.
Speed. Why, she hath given you a letter.
Val. That's the letter I writ to her friend.
Speed. And that letter hath she delivered, 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 modesty,
Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply,
Or fearing else some 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 muse you, sir? 'tis dinner-time.

Val. I have dined.

Speed. Ay, but hearken, sir: though the cameleon love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourished by my victuals, and would fain have meat: 0, be not like your mistress; be moved, be moved.



Verona. A room in Julia's house

Enter Proteus and Julia.

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

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

[Giving a ring. • There's the conclusion.

Pro. Why then we'll make exchange; here, take

you this.

Jul. Aod seal the bargain with a holy kiss.

Pro. Here is my hand for my true constancy;
And when that hour o'er-slips me in the day,
Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake,
The next ensuing hour some foul mischance
Torment me for my love's forgetfulness!
My father stays my coming ; answer not;
The tide is now: nay, not the tide of tears ;
That tide will stay me longer than I should;

[Erit Julia.
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 Protens, you are staid for.

Pro. Go; I come, I come :-
Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers damb.


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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 Sir Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think, Crab my dog be the sour. est-natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear: he is a stone, a very pebble-stone,

• Kindred.

and has no inore pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll show you the man. ner of it: This shoe is my father;-no, this left shoe is my father;- no, no, this left shoe is my mother; uay, that cannot be so neither ;-yes, it is so, it is 80; it hath the worser sole: this shoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father: a vengeance on't! there 'tis : now, sir, this staff is my sister; for, look you, she is as white as a lily, and as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog :--no, the dog is himself, aod I am the dog, O, the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so. Now come I to my father; Father, your blessing ; now should 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 dowo: now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes: now the dog all this while sheds not a tear, nor speaks a word; but see how I lay the dust with my tears.

Enter Panthino. Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard ; thy master is shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? why weepest thou, man? Away, ass ; 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 losing the flood, lose thy voyage ; and, in losing thy voyage, lose thy master; and, in losing thy master, lose thy service; and, in losing thy service-Why dost thou stop my mouth ?

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• Crazy, distracted.

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ay, so, $ our blessing

Laun. For fear thou should'st lose thy tongue.
Pan. Where should I lose my tongue ?
Laun. In thy tale.
Pan. In thy tail ?

Laun. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service? 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 sighs.

Pan. Copie, come away, man; I was sent to call thee.

Laun. Sir, call me what thou darest.
Pan. Wilt thou go?
Laun. Well, I will go.



for Feeping


te weeps OD: he could spei kiss her ;-) up

Milan. An apartment in the Duke's palace.

and dort Oan she male tear, DOT SICH

Enter Valentine, Silvia, Thurio, and Speed.

with my tears

rd; thy na after with u, man! AF Ty any longe were lost, van tyd.

Sil. Servant
Val. Mistress?
Speed. Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you.
Val. Ay, boy, it's for love.
Speed. Not of you.
Val. Of my niistress then.
Speed. 'Twere good, you knocked him.
Sil. Servant, you are sade.
Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so.
Thu. Seem you that you are not?
Val. Haplyt, I do.
Thu. So do counterfeits.
Val. So do you.
Thu. What seem I, that I am not?
Val. Wise.
Thu. What instance of the contrary!

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Val. Your folly.
Thu. And bow 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, sir Thurio? do you change colour?

Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of ca. meleon,

Thu. Tliat hath more mind to feed on your blood, than live in your air.

Val. You have said, sir.
Thu, Ay, sir, and done too, for this time.

Val. I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin.

Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quick. ly shot off.

Val. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thauk the giver.
Sil. Who is that, servant?

Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire: Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks, and spends 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, sir: you have av 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 father.

Enter Duke.

Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset. Sir Valentine, your father's in good health: What say you to a letter from your friends of much good news?

# Observe.

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