That to close prifon he commanded her,

With many bitter threats of 'biding there.

Val. No more; unless the next word that thou fpeak'ft,

Have fome malignant power upon my life.
If fo, I pray thee breathe it in mine ear,
As ending anthem of my endless dolour.

Pro Ceafe to lament for that thou canst not help,
And ftudy help for that which thou lament'st.
Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.
Here if thou ftay, thou canst not fee thy love;
Befides, thy ftaying will abridge thy life.
Hope is a lover's ftaff; walk hence with that,
And manage it against despairing thoughts.
Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence,
Which, being writ to me, fhall be deliver'd
Ev'n in the milk-white bofom of thy love.
The time now ferves not to expoftulate.
Come, I'll convey thee through the city-gate;
And, ere I part with thee, confer at large
Of all that may concern thy love-affairs.
As thou lov't Silvia, tho' not for thyself,
Regard thy danger, and along with me.

Val. I prav thee, Launce, an if thou feest my boy, Bid him make hafte, and meet me at the north-gate. Pro. Go, firrah, find him out: come, Valentine. Val. O my dear Silvia! hapless Valentine!

[Exeunt Valentine and Protheus.

SCENE

IV.

Laun. "I am but a fool, look you, and yet I have "the wit to think my master is a kind of a knave: but "that's all one, if he be but one kind. He lives not 66 now that knows me to be in love, yet I am in love; "but a team of horfe fhall not pluck that from me.

nor who 'tis I love, and yet 'tis a woman; but what "woman, I will not tell myself, and yet 'tis a milk"maid; yet 'tis not a maid, for fhe hath had goffips; 66 yet tis a maid, for fhe is her master's maid, and ferves "for wages. She hath more qualities than a waterspaniel, which is much in a bare Christian. Here "is the cat-log [pulling out a paper] of her conditions.

66

"Imprimis,

"Imprimis, She can fetch and carry; why, a horse can "do no more; nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry ; therefore she is better than a jade. Item, She can milk; look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with "clean hands.

66

Enter Speed.

Speed. How now, Signior Launce? what news with your mastership?

Laun. With my mafter's fhip! why, it is at fea. Speed. Well, your old vice ftill; mistake the word: what news then in your paper ?

Laun. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st.
Speed. Why, man, how black?

Laun. Why, as black as ink.
Speed. Let me read them.

Laun. Fy on thee, jolt-head, thou can'ft not read.
Speed. Thou lyeft, I can.

Laun. I will try thee; tell me this, who begot thee? Speed. Marry, the fon of my grandfather.

Laun. O illiterate loiterer, it was the fon of thy grandmother; this proves that thou can'ft not read. Speed. Come, fool, come, try me in thy paper. Laun. There, and St. Nicholas be thy speed! Speed. Imprimis, She can milk.

Laun. Ay, that she can.

Speed. Item, She brews good ale.

Laun. And thereof comes the proverb, Bleffing of

your heart, you brew good ale.

Speed. Item, She can fowe.

Laun. That's as much as to fay, Can fhe fo?

Speed. Item, She can knit.

Laun. What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when the can knit him a stock!

Speed. Item, She can wash and scour.

Laun. A fpecial virtue, for then she need not to be wash'd and fcour'd.

Speed. Item, She can fpin.

Laun. Then may I fet the world on wheels, when she can fpin for her living.

Speed. Item, She hath many nameless virtues.

Laun. That's as much as to fay, baftard virtues, that

indeed know not their fathers, and therefore have no names

Speed. Here follow her vices.

Laun. Clofe at the heels of her virtues.

Speed Item, She is not to be kifs'd fafting, in refpect of her breath.

Laun. Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfaft. Read on.

Speed. Item, She hath a fweet mouth.

Laun. That makes amends for her four breath.
Speed Item, she doth talk in her fleep.

Laun. It's no matter for that, fo fhe fleep not in her talk.

Speed. Item, She is flow in words.

thee

Laun. O villain! that fet down among her vices! To be flow in words is a woman's only virtue. I pray out with't, and place it for her chief virtue. Speed. Item, She is proud.

Laun. Out with that too; it was Eve's legacy, and cannot be ta'en from her.

Speed. Item, She hath no teeth.

Laun. I care not for that neither, because I love crufts.

Speed. Item, She is curs'd.

Laun. Well, the beft is, the hath no teeth to bite. Speed. Item, She will often praife her liquor. Laun. If her liquor be good, fhe fhall; if the will not, I will; for good things fhould be praised. Speed. Item, She is too liberal.

Laun. Of her tongue the cannot, for that's writ down, fhe's flow of; of her purfe fhe fhall not, for that I'll keep fhut; now of another thing the may, and that cannot I help. Well, proceed.

Speed. Item, She hath more hairs than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.

Laun. "Stop here; I'll have her; fhe was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that article. Rehearse "that once more.

Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit.

Laun. More hair than wit, it may be. I'll prove it: The cover of the falt hides the falt, and therefore it is more than the falt. The hair that covers the wit, is

more

more than the wit; for the greater hides the lefs. What's next?

Speed. And more faults than hairs.

Laun. That's monftrous; oh that that were out! Speed. And more wealth than faults.

Laun. Why, that word makes the faults gracious! well, I'll have her; and if it be a match, as nothing is impoffible

Speed. What then?

Laun. Why then will I tell thee, that thy mafter stays for thee at the north-gate.

Speed. For me?

Laun. For thee? ay; who art thou? he hath staid for a better man than thee.

Speed. And must I go to him?

Laun. Thou must run to him; for thou haft ftaid fo long, that going will fcarce ferve the turn.

Speed. Why didit not tell me fooner? pox on your

love-letters!

Laun. Now will he be fwinge'd for reading my letter: an unmannerly flave, that will thrust himself into fecrets. I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.
Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love
Now Valentine is banifh'd from her fight.

Enter Duke and Thurio.

Thu. Since his exile fhe hath defpis'd me most,
Forfworn my company, and rail'd at me,
That I am defperate of obtaining her.

Duke. This weak imprefs of love is as a figure
Trenched in ice, which with an hour's heat
Diffolves to water, and doth lofe his form.
A little time will melt her frozen thoughts,
And worthlefs Valentine fhall be forgot.

Enter Protheus.

How now, Sir Protheus? Is your countryman,
According to our proclamation, gone?
Pro. Gone, my good Lord.

e you,

Duke. My daughter takes his going heavily.
Pro. A little time, my Lord, will kill that grief.

Duke.

Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not fo.
Prtheus, the good conceit I hold of thee,
(For thou haft fhown fome fign of good defert),
Makes me the better to confer with thee.

Prolonger than I prove loyal to your Grace,
Let me not live to look upon your Grace.

Duke. hou know't how willingly I would effect The match between Sir Thurio and my daughter. Pro. I do, my Lord.

Duke. And alfo, I do think, thou art not ignorant How the oppofes her against my will

Pro. She did, my Lord, when Valentine was here.
Duke. Ay, and perverfely fhe perfeveres fo.
What might we do to make the girl forget
The love of Valentine, and love Sir Thurio?
Pro The best way is, to flander Valentine
With falfehood, cowardice, and poor defcent;
Three things that women highly hold in hate.
Duke. Ay, but she'll think that it is spoke in hate.
Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it:

Therefore it must with circumstance be spoken
By one whom she esteemeth as his friend

Duke Then you must undertake to flander him. Pro. And that, my Lord, I fhall be loth to do; 'Tis an ill office for a gentleman;

Efpecially against his very friend.

Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage

Your flander never can endamage him;

Therefore the office is indifferent,

Being intreated to it by your friend.

[him,

Pro. You have prevail'd, my Lord: if I can do it,

By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not long continue love to him.
But fay, this weed her love from Valentine,

It follows not that he will love Sir Thurio.

Thu Therefore as you unwind her love from him, Left it fhould ravel, and be good to none,

You must provide to bottom it on me:

Which must be done by praifing me as much
As you in worth dilpraife Sir Valentine.

Duke. And, Protheus, we dare truft you in this kind, Because we know, on Valentine's report,

You