Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed;
For what I will, I will, and there an end.
I am resolv'd that thou shalt spend some time
With Valentinus in the emperor's court:
What maintenance he from his friends receives,
Like exhibition thou shalt have from me.
To-morrow be in readiness to go:
Excuse it not, for I'm peremptory.

Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided; Please you, deliberate a day or two.

Ant. Look, what thou want'st shall be sent after No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.Come on, Panthino; you shall be employ'd To hasten on his expedition.

[Exeunt ANT. and PAN. Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire, for fear of burning;

And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd:
I fear'd to show my father Julia's letter,
Lest he should take exceptions to my love;
And with the vantage of mine own excuse
Hath he excepted most against my love.
Oh! how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day;
Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away!
Re-enter PANTHINO.

Pan. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you;
He is in haste; therefore, I pray you, go.
Pro. Why, this it is! my heart accords thereto;
And yet a thousand times it answers, No.

Speed. Why then this may be yours, for this is Val. Ha! let me see: ay, give it me, it's mine:Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine!

Ah! Silvia! Silvia!

Speed. Madam Silvia! madam Silvia!

Val. How now, sirrah?

Speed. She is not within hearing, sir.

Val. Why, sir, who bade you call her?

[slow.

Speed. Your worship, sir; or else I mistook.
Val. Well, you'll still be too forward.
Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too
Val. Go to, sir; tell me, do you know madam
Silvia?

Speed. She that your worship loves?

Val. Why how know you that I am in love? Speed. Marry: By these special marks: First, you have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreath your arms like a malecontent: to relish a love song, line a robin redbreast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a schoolboy that had lost his A, B, C; to weep, like a young wench that had buried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one that fears robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you looked sadly, it was for want of money: and now you are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I look on you, I can hardly think you my master.

Val. Are all these things perceiv'd in me?
Speed. They are all perceiv'd without you.
Val. Without me? They cannot.

Speed. Without you? nay, that's certain, for, without you were so simple, none else would: but you are so without these follies, that these follies are within you, and shine through you like the water in an urinal; that not an eye that sees you but is a physician to comment on your malady.

Val. But, tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia? Speed. She, that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper?

Val. Hast thou observ'd that? even she I mean. Speed. Why, sir, I know her not.

Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and vet know'st her not.

[Exeunt.

Speed. Is she not hard favoured, sir?
Val. Not so fair, boy, as well favoured.
Speed. Sir, I know that well enough.
Val. What dost thou know?
[favoured.
Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) well
Val. I mean, that her beauty is exquisite, but

her favour infinite.

Speed. That's because the one is painted, and the other out all count?

Val. How painted? and how out of count? Speed. Marry, sir, so painted, to make her fair, that no man counts of her beauty. [beauty.

Val. How esteem'st thou me? I account of her
Speed. You never saw her since she was deformed.
Val. How long hath she been deformed?
Speed. Ever since you loved her.

Val. I have loved her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful.

Speed. If you love her, you cannot see her.
Val. Why?

mine eyes; or your own had the lights they were
Speed. Because love is blind. O that you had
going ungartered!
wont to have, when you chid at Sir Proteus for

Val. What should I see then?

deformity: for he, being in love, could not see to Speed. Your own present folly, and her passing see to put on your hose. garter his hose; and you, being in love, cannot

morning you could not see to wipe my shoes. Val. Belike, boy, then you are in love; for last

Speed. True, sir; I was in love with my bed: makes me the bolder to chide you for yours. I thank you, you swinged me for my love, which

Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her. Speed. I would you were set: so, your affection would cease.

Val. Last night she enjoined me to write some lines to one she loves.

Speed. And have you?

Val. I have.

Speed. Are they not lamely writ?

Peace, here she comes.
Val. No, boy, but as well I can do them

Enter SILVIA.

Speed. O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet; now will he interpret to her. [morrows. Val. Madam and mistress, a thousand goodSpeed. O give you good even! Here's a million of manners. [Aside. Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you twę thousand.

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

Sil. I thank you, gentle servant: 'tis very clerkly done. [off; Val. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly For, being ignorant to whom it goes, I writ at random, very doubtfully.

[pains. Sil. Perchance you think too much of so much Val. No, madam; so it stead 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?

Sil. Yes, yes; the lines are very quaintly writ: But since 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 ladyship another. Sil. And when it's writ, for my sake read it over; And if it please you, so: if not, why so.

Val. If it please me, madam! what then?
Sil. Why, if it please you, take it for your
labour;

And so good-morrow, servant. [Exit SILVIA.
Speed. O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible,
As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a
steeple!
[suitor,
My master sues to her; and she hath taught her
He being her pupil, to become her tutor.

O excellent device! was there ever heard a better? That my master, being scribe, to himself should write the letter?

Val. How now, sir? what are you reasoning with yourself?

Speed. Nay, I was rhyming; 'tis you that have

the reason.

Val. To do what?

Speed. To be a spokesman from madam Silvia. Val. To whom?

Speed. To yourself; why, she woos you by a figure.

Val. What figure?

Speed. By a letter, I should say.

Val. Why, she hath not writ to me? Speed. What need she, when she hath made you write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest?

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 deliver'd, 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;

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 came leon Love can feed on the air, I am one that am nourishd by my victuals, and would fain have meat Oh! be not like your mistress, be moved, be moved. [Exeunt

SCENE II.-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.
Pro. Why then we'll make exchange; here, tak3
you this.

Jul. And 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.

[Exit 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 Proteus, you are staid for.
Pro. Go; I come, I come:-

Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb.

[Exeunt

SCENE III.-The same.-A Street.

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 to be the sourest-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, and has no more 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 manner of it: This shoe is my father;-no, this left shoe is my father:-no, no, this left shoe is my mother;-nay, that cannot be so neither;-yes, it is so; it is so; 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, and I am the dog.-Oh! the dog is me, and I am myself: ay, so, so. come 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

now come I to my mother, (Oh! that she could speak now!) like a wood woman:-well, I kiss her-why there 'tis: here's my mother's breath up and down: 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 tide were lost; for it is the unkindest tied that ever any man tied. Pan. What's the unkindest tide?

Laun. Why, he that's tied here; Crab, my dog. Pun. 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?

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

Fun. In thy tail?

Laun. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service, and the tied!--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. [thee. Pan. Come, come away, man; I was sent to call Laun. Sir, call me what thou darest. Pan. Wilt thou go?

Laun. Well, I will go.

[Exeunt.

Thu. What seem I, that I am not?
Val. Wise.

Thu. What instance of the contrary?
Val. Your folly.

Thu. And how 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?

[colour?

Sil. What, angry, Sir Thurio? do you change Val. Give him leave, madam: he is a kind of cameleon. [blood than live in your air. Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your Val. You have said, sir. Thu. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time. Va'. I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin. [quickly shot off. Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and Val. "Tis indeed, inadam; we thank the giver. Sil. Who is that servant?

Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the

fire: Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your lady. | ship'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 an exchequer of words, and, I think, no other reasure to give your followers; for it appears by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words. [my father. Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more; here comes 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?

Val. My lord, I will be thankful
To any happy messenger from thence.

[man.

Duke. Know you Don Antonio, your countryVal. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman To be of worth, and worthy estimation, And not without desert so well reputed.

Duke. Hath he not a son?

Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well deserves The honour and regard of such a father.

Duke. You know him well?

Val. I knew him as myself; for from our infancy We have convers'd and spent our hours together: And though myself have been an idle truant, Omitting the sweet benefit of time To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection, Yet hath Sir Proteus, for that's his name, Made use and fair advantage of his days: His years but young, but his experience old; His head unmellow'd, but his judgment ripe And, in a word, (for far behind his worth Come all the praises that I now bestow,) He is complete in feature, and in mind, With all good grace to grace a gentleman.

Duke. Beshrew me, sir, but if he make this good He is as worthy for an empress' love,

As meet to be an emperor's counsellor.
Well, sir; this gentleman is come to me,
With commendation from great potentates;
And here he means to spend his time awhile:

I think 'tis no unwelcome news to you.

[he.

Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been Duke. Welcome him then according to his worth; Silvia, I speak to you; and you, Sir Thurio:For Valentine, I need not 'cite him to it: I'll send him hither to you presently.

To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship.
Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a servant.
Pro. Not so, sweet lady; but too mean a servant
To have a look of such a worthy mistress.

Val. Leave off discourse of disability:-
Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant.

Pro. My duty will I boast of, nothing else.
Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed:
Servant, you are welcome to a worthless mistress.
Pro. I'll die on him that says so, but yourself.
Sil. That you are welcome?

Pro. No That you are worthless.
Enter SERVANT.

Ser. Madam, my lord your father would speak
with you.

Sil. I'll wait upon his pleasure. Come, Sir Thurio,

[Exit SER.

Go with me:--Once more, new servant, welcome: I'll leave you to confer of home affairs; When you have done, we look to hear from you. Pro. We'll both attend upon your ladyship. [Exeunt SILVIA, THURIO, and SPEED. Val. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came?

[commended.

Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much
Val. And how do yours?
Pro. I left them all in health.

[love? Val. How does your lady? and how thrives your Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you; I know you joy not in a love-discourse.

Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now: I have done penance for contemning love; Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me With bitter fasts, with penitential groans, With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs; For, in revenge of my contempt of love, Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes, And made them watchers of mine own heart's

sorrow.

O, gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord;
And hath so humbled me, as, I confess,
There is no woe to his correction,
Nor to his service no such joy on earth!
Now, no discourse, except it be of love;
Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep,
Upon the very naked name of love.

Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye: Was this the idol that you worship so?

Val. Even she, and is she not a heavenly saint?
Pro. No; but she is an earthly paragon.
Vul. Call her divine.

Pro. I will not flatter her.

Val. O! flatter me; for love delights in praises. Pro. When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills; And I must minister the like to you.

Val. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine,
Yet let her be a principality,
Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth.
Pro. Except my mistress.

Val. Sweet, except not any;
Except thou wilt except against my love.

Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine own?
Vul. And I will help thee to prefer her too:
She shall be dignified with this high honour,—
To bear my lady's train; lest the base earth
Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss,
And, of so great a favour growing proud,
Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower,
And make rough winter everlastingly.

Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this? Val. Pardon me, Proteus: all I can is nothing To her, whose worth makes other worthies nothing:

She is alone.

Pro. Then let her alone.

[own;

Val. Not for the world: why, man, she is mine And I as rich in having such a jewel

As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl,
The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
Forgive me, that I do not dream on thee,
Because thou seest me dote upon my love,
My foolish rival, that her father likes,
Only for his possessions are so huge,
Is gone with her along; and I must after,
For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy.
Pro. But she loves you?

Val. Ay, and we are betroth'd;
Nay, more, our marriage hour,

With all the cunning manner of our flight,
Determin'd of: how I must climb her window;
The ladder made of cords; and all the means
Plotted, and 'greed on, for my happiness.
Good Proteus, go with me to my chamber,
In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel.
Pro. Go on before; I shall inquire you forth,
I must unto the road, to disembark
Some necessaries that I needs must use;
And then I'll presently attend you.
Val. Will you make haste?
Pro. I will.-

[Exit VAL

Even as one heat another heat expels,
Or as one nail by strength drives out another,
Is by a newer object quite forgotten.
So the remembrance of my former love
Is it her mien or Valentinus' praise
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 impression of the thing it was.
Methinks, my zeal to Valentine is cold;
And that I love him not, as I was wont:
Oh! but I love his lady too, too much;
And that's the reason I love him so little.
How shall I dote on her with more advice,
That thus without advice begin to love her?
"Tis but her picture I have yet beheld,
And that hath dazzled my reason's light;
But when I look on her perfections,
If I can check my erring love, I will;
There is no reason but I shall be blind.
If not, to compass her I'll use my skill.

[Exit.

SCENE V.-The same.-A Street. Enter SPEED and LAUNCE. Speed. Launce! by mine honesty, welcome to Milan.

Laun. Forswear not thyself, sweet youth; for I am not welcome. I reckon this always-that a man is never undone, till he be hanged; nor never welcome to a place, till some certain sho be paid, and the hostess say, Welcome.

Speed. Come on, you madcap, I'll to the ale house with you presently: where, for one shot of fivepence, 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 ar: 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. [one. Laun. Why, stand under and understand is all 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?

me.

[to be. Laun. A notable lubber, as thou reportest him Speed. Why, thou whoreson ass, thou mistakest [master. Laun. Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy 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 Pulace.

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,
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-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 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 most 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 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 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!

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

Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return.
Jul. Oh! 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 quench 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 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,
He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones,
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. [breeches?
Laic. What fashion, madam, shall I make your
Jul. That fits as well as "tell me, good my lord
"What compass will you wear your farthingale?"
Why, ev'n 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