SCENE III. The same.

A Room in Antonio's House. Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO.

Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that, Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pant. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. Ant. Why, what of him?

Pant.
He wondered, that your lordship
Would suffer him to spend his youth at home;
While other men, of slender reputation,
Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:
Some, to the wars, to try their fortune there;
Some, to discover islands far away;
Some, to the studious universities.
For any, or for all these exercises,

He said, that Proteus, your son, was meet;
And did request me, to importune you,

To let him spend his time no more at home,
Which would be great impeachment to his age,

In having known no travel in his youth.

Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that Whereon this month I have been hammering.

I have considered well his loss of time;
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being tried and tutored in the world:
Experience is by industry achieved,

And perfected by the swift course of time:

Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him?
Pant. I think, your lordship is not ignorant,

How his companion, youthful Valentine,

Attends the emperor in his royal court.

Ant. I know it well.

Pant. 'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither: There shall he practise tilts and tournaments,

Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen;

And be in eye of every exercise,

Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.

Ant. I like thy counsel: well hast thou advised; And, that thou may'st perceive how well I like it, The execution of it shall make known;

Even with the speediest expedition

I will despatch him to the emperor's court.

Pant. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso, With other gentlemen of good esteem,

Are journeying to salute the emperor,

And to commend their service to his will.

Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go: And, in good time, now will we break with him.

Enter PROTEUS.

Pro. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life! Here is her hand, the agent of her heart: Here is her oath for love, her honor's pawn: 0, that our fathers would applaud our loves, To seal our happiness with their consents' 0 heavenly Julia!

Ant. How now? what letter are you reading there? Pro. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two Of commendations sent from Valentine,

Delivered by a friend that came from him.

Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news. Pro. There is no news, my lord; but that he writes How happily he lives, how well beloved

And daily graced by the emperor;

Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.

Ant.

Pro.

And how stand you affected to his wish?
As one relying on your lordship's will,
And not depending on his friendly wish.
Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish;
Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed;
For what I will, I will, and there an end.
I am resolved, 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 am peremptory.

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

Please

Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent after thee: No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.

Come on,

Panthino; you shall be employed

To hasten on his expedition.

[Exeunt ANT. and PANT. Pro. Thus have I shunned the fire, for fear of burning; And drenched me in the sea, where I am drowned:

I feared 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.
0, 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.

Pant. 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.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. Milan. A Room in the Duke's Palace.

Enter VALENTINE and SPEED.

Speed. Sir, your glove.

Val. Not mine; my gloves are on.

Speed. Why then this may be yours, for this is but one. 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?

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 slow. 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, like a robin-red breast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a school-boy 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 perceived in me?
Speed. They are all perceived 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 observed that? even she I mean. Speed. Why, sir, I know her not.

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

Speed. Is she not hard-favored, sir?

Val. Not so fair, boy, as well favored.
Speed Sir, I know that well enough.
Val. What dost thou know?

Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) well-favored.
Val. I mean, that her beauty is exquisite, but her favor

infinite.

Speed. That's because the one is painted, and the other

out of 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.

Val.

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

Val.

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?

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

Val.

What should I see then?

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

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

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

G

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?

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

Enter SILVIA.

Speed. O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet! now will he interpret to her.

Val. Madam and mistress, a thousand good-morrows. Speed. O, 'give you good even! here's a million of

manners.

[Aside. Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand. Speed. He should give her interest; and she gives it him. Val. As you enjoined 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. 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 so much pains? 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.