Her true perfection, or my false transgression,
That makes me, reasonless, to reason thus?
She's fair; and so is Julia, that I love;
That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd;
Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire,
Bears no impreffion of the thing it was.
Methinks, my zeal to Valentine is cold;
And that I love him not, as I was wont.
O! but I love his lady too, too, much;
And that's the reason, I love him so little.
How shall I doat on her with more advice,
That thus without advice begin to love her ?
'Tis but her picture I have yet bebeld,
And that hath dazled so my reason's light:
But when I look on her perfections,
There is no reason, but I shall be blind.
If I can check my erring love, I will;
If not, to compass her I'll use my skill.

Speed.

SCENE changes to a Street.

Enter Speed and Launce.

[Exit:

LAUNCE, by mine honesty, welcome to

Milan.

Laun. Forswear not thy felf, sweet youth; for I am not welcome: I reckon this always, that a man is never undone, 'till he be hang'd; nor never welcome to a place, till fome certain shot be paid, and the hostess say, welcome.

Is it mine, or Valentino's Praise.

The Verse halts so, that fome one Syllable must be wanting; and that Mr. Warburton has very ingeniously, and, as I think, with Certainty supply'd, as I have restor'd in the Text. Proteus had just seen Valentine's Mistress; Valentine had prais'd her so lavishly, that the Description heighten'd Proteus's Sentiments of her from the Interview; so that it was the less Wonder that he should not know certainly, at first, which made the strongest Impression, Valentine's Praises, or his own View of the Original.

+ It is Padua in the former editions. See the note on Act 3.

N2

Mr. Pope.

Speed.

Speed. Come on, you mad-cap; I'll to the ale-house 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 clos'd in earnest, they parted very fairly in jest.

Speed. But shall the 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 lean, 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 nothing, 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 my master is become a notable lover? Laun. I never knew him otherwise.

Speed. Than how?

Laun. A notable Lubber, as thou reportest him to be.

Speed. Why, thou whorson ass, thou mistak'st me. Laun. Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy master.

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

Laun.

Laun. Why, I tell thee, I care not tho' he burn himself in love: If thou wilt go with me to the alehouse, 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-house with a Christian: wilt thou go?

Speed. At thy service.

Enter Protheus folus.

[Exeunt.

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 ev'n that pow'r, which gave me first my oath,
Provokes me to this threefold perjury.

Love bad me swear, and love bids me forswear:
O sweet-suggesting love! if thou hast sinn'd,
Teach me, thy tempted fubject, to excuse it.
At first I did adore a twinkling star,
But now I worship a celestial fun.
Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken;
And he wants wit that wants resolved will,
To learn his wit t'exchange the bad for better.
Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad,
Whose Sov'raignty so oft thou hast preferr'd
With twenty thousand foul-confirming 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 my self:
If I lose them, this find I by their loss,
For Valentine, my self; for Julia, Silvia:
I to my self am dearer than a friend;
For love is still most precious in its self:
And Silvia, (witness heav'n, that made her fair!)
Shews Julia but a swarthy Ethiope.
I will forget that Julia is alive,
Remembring that my love to her is dead:

And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,

N3

Aiming

Aiming at Silvia as a sweeter friend.
I cannot now prove constant to my self,
Without fome treachery us'd to Valentine :
This night, he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celeftial Silvia's chamber-window;
My felf in counsel his competitor.
Now presently I'll give her father notice
Of their disguifing, and pretended flight;
Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentine:
For Thurio, he intends, shall wed his daughter.
But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross,
By some fly 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 changes to Julia's House in Verona.

Enter Julia and Lucetta.

Jul. Counsel, Lucetta gentle girl, afssist me;

And, even in kind love, I do conjure thee,

Who art the table wherein all my thoughts
Are visibly character'd and engrav'd,
To lesson me; and tell me some good mean,
How with my honour I may undertake
A journey to my loving Protheus.

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 flight is made to one so dear,
Of such divine perfection as Sir Protheus.

Luc. Better forbear, 'till Protheus make return.

Jul. Oh, know'st thou not, his looks are my foul'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 foon go kindle fire with snow,
As seek to quench the fire of love with words.

Luc.

Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire, But qualifie the fire's extream rage, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. 90년

Jul. The more thou damm'ft it up, the more it burns :

The current, that with gentle murmur glides,
Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;
But when his fair course is not hindered,HQA
He makes sweet musick with th'enamel'd stones;

Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge

He overtaketh in his pilgrimage:
And fo by many winding nooks he strays,

With willing sport, to the wild ocean.

Then let me go, and hinder not my course; pri bol

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, торта звя
A blessed foul doth in Elysium.dsebnod striebrow alll
Luc. But in what habit will you go along? vol til f
Jul. Not like a woman; for I would prevent aff
The loose encounters of lascivious men:
Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds
As may beseem some well-reputed page.

C

L

Luc. Why then your ladyship must cut your hair.
Jul. No, girl, I'll knit it up in filken strings, yo
With twenty odd-conceited true-love-knots:
To be fantastick, may become a youth
a tisto f
Of greater time than I shall shew to be.al of
Luc. What fashion, Madam, shall I make your breeches?
Jul. That fits as well, as "tell me, good my

"What compass will you wear your farthingale?
Why, even what fashion thou best like'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 hofe, Madam, now's not worth a pin, Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on.