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Ev'n as one heat another heat expels,

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Or as one nail by Arength drives out anothers
So the remembrance of my former love
Is by a newer object quite forgotten..
Is it mine Eye, or Valentine's Praife, o
Her true perfection, or my falfe tranfgreffion,
That makes me, reafonless, "to reason thus ?
She's fair; and fo is Julia, that I love;
That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd;
Which, like a waxen image 'gainft 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 reafon, I love him fo 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 beheld,
And that hath dazled fo my reason's light:
But when I look on her perfections,
There is no reason, but I fhall be blind.
If I can check my erring love, I will;
If not, to compass her I'll use my fkill.

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(10) Is it mine then, or Valentino's Praife.] This fupplemental Word, then, was firft clapt in by Mr. Rowe to help the lab'ring Verfe, and fince embraced by Mr. Pope. But let us fee, what Senfe refults from it. What! is Protheus queftioning with himself, whether it is his own Praife, or Valentine's, that makes him fall in Love? But Protheus had not praised Silvia any farther than giving his Opinion of her in three Word, when his friend demanded it. In all the old Editions, we find it thus;

Is it mine, or Valentino's Praife..

The Verfe halts fo, that fome one Syllable must be wanting; and that Mr. Warburton has very ingeniously, and, as I think, with Certainty fupplied, as I have reftored in the Text, Protheus had juft feen Valentine's Miftrefs; Valentine had praised her fo lavishly, that the Defcription heightened Protheus's Sentiments of her from the Interview; fo that it was the lefs Wonder that he should not know certainly, at first, which made the strongest Impreffion, Valentine's Praifes, or his own View of the Original.

SCENE

SCENE changes to a Street.

Enter Speed and Launce.

Speed. 4UNCE, by mine honefty, welcome to

Laun. Forfwear not thyself, fweet 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 some certain shot be paid, and the hostess say, wel

come.

Speed. Come on, you mad-cap; I'll to the ale-house with you prefently, where, for one shot of five-pence, thon fhalt have five thousand welcomes. But, Sirrah, how did thy mafler part with madam Julia ?

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Laun. Marry, after they clos'd in earnest, they parted very fairly in jeft.

Speed. But fhall fhe marry him?

Laun. No.

Speed. How then? fhall he marry her ?

Laun. No, neither.

Speed. What, are they broken?

Laun. No, they are both as whole as a fifh.

Speed. Why then how stands the matter with them? Laun. Marry, thus: when it ftands well with him, it

ftands well with her.

Speed. What an afs art thou? I understand thee not. Laun. What a block art thou, that thou canst not? My staff understands me.

Speed, What thou fay'ft?.

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Laun. Ay, and what I do too; look thee, I'll but lean, and my staff understands me.

Speed. It ftands under thee indeed.

Laun. Why, ftand-under, and understand, is all one. Speed. But tell me true, will't be a match?

Laun, Ak my dog: if he fay, ay, it will; if he fay, no, it will; if he thake his tail, and fay nothing, it will. Speed. The conclufion is then, that it will.

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Laun, Thou shalt never get fuch a fecret from me, but by a parable.

Speed. 'Tis well, that I get it fo; but Launce, how fay it thou, that my mafter is become a notable lover? Laun. I never knew him otherwife:

Speed, Than how ?

Laun. A notable Lubber, as thou reportest him to be: Speed. Why, thou whorson afs, thou mistak'st me. Laun. Why, fool, I meant not thee; I meant thy mafter..

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Speed. I tell thee, my mafter is become a hot lover. Laun. Why, I tell thee, I care not tho' he burn himfelf in love: If thou wilt go with me to the ale-hoafe, fa; if not, thou art an Hebrew, a Jew, and not worth the name of a Christian.

Speed. Why?

Laun. Because thou haft not fo much charity in thee,' as to go to the ale-house with a Chriflian : wilt thou go Speed. At thy fervice.

Enter Protheus folus.

Pro. To leave my Julia, fhall I be forsworn; To love fair Silvia, fhall I be forfworn

[Exeunt.

To wrong my friend, I shall be much forfworn :
And ev'n that pow'r, which gave me first my oath,
Provokes me to this threefold perjury.

Love bad me (wear, and love bids me forfwear:
O fweet-fuggefting love! if thou haft finn'd,
Teach me, thy tempted fubject, to excufe 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 refolved will
To learn his wit t'exchange the bad for better.
Fie, fie, unreverend tongue! to call her bad,
Whose fov'reignty fo oft thou haft 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 fhould love:
Julia I lofe, and Valentine I lose :

?

If I keep them, I needs muft lofe myself:
If I lose them, this find I by their loss,
For Valentine, myfelf; for Julia, Silvia
I to myfelf am dearer than a friend ; #
For love is ftill moft precious in itself:

And Silvia, (witness heav'n, that made her fair H
Shews Julia but a fwarthy Ethiope

I will forget that Julia is alive,

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Remembring 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 fome treachery us'd to Valentine:
This night, he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celeftial Silvia's chamber-window;
Myfelf in counsel his competitor.

Now presently I'll give her father notice
Of their difguifing, and pretended flightbo
Who, all enrag'd will banish Valentine :
For Thurio, he intends, fhall wed his daughter.
But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly cross,
By fome fly trick, blunt Thurio's dull proceeding.
Love, lend me wings to make my purpose swift,
As thou haft lent me wit to plot this drift!

[Exit

SCENE changes to Julia's House in Verona.

Enter Julia and Lucetta.

Ounfel, Lucetta; gentle girl, affift me

Jul. Cand

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

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

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Luc. Alas! the way is wearifome and long.
Ful. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary
To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;
Much lefs fhall the, that hath love's wings to flys
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And

And when the flight is made to one fo dear,"
Of fuch divine perfection, as Sir Protheus.

Luc. Better forbear, 'till Protheus makë return.
Jul. Oh, know'st thou not, his looks are my foul's food l
Pity the dearth, that I have pined in,

By longing for that food fo long a time.

Didft thou but know the inly touch of love,

Thou would't as foon go kindle fire with fnow, JAME
As feek to quench the fire of love with words,nu 10%
Luc. I do not feek to quench your love's hot fire,
But qualify the fire's extream rage,

Left it fhould burn above the bounds of reason.

Jul. The more thou damm'st it up, the more it burns;
The current, that with gentle murmur glides,
Thou know't, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;
But when his fair courfe is not hindered,

He makes sweet musick with th' enamel'd stones;
Giving a gentle kifs to every fedge

He overtaketh in his pilgrimage:
And fo by many winding nooks he strays,
With willing fport, to the wild ocean.
Then let me go, and hinder not my courfe ;
I'll be as patient as a gentle ftream,
And make a paftime of each weary step,
'Till the last step have brought me to my love;
And there I'll reft, as after much turmoil,
A bleffed foul doth in Elyfium.k

As may

Luc. But in what habit will you go along?
ful. Not like a woman; for I would prevent
The loofe encounters of lascivious men: dà
Gentle Lucetta, fit me with fuch weeds 3x2 &
befeem fome well-reputed page. 9 V-145 97
Luc. Why then your ladyfhip muft cut your hair.
Jul. No, girl I'll knit it up in filken ftrings,
With twenty odd-conceited true-love-knots:
To be fantastick, may become a youth
Of greater time than I fhall thew to be.

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Luc. What fashion, Madam, fhall I make your breeches? ful. That fits as well, as tell me, good my lord, "What compass will you wear your farthingale "

Why,

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