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Laun. It is no matter if the ty'd were lost; for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever any man ty'd. Pan. What's the unkindest tide?

Laun. Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my dog. Pan. 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.
Pan. Where should I lose my tongue?
Laun. In thy tale.
Pan. In thy tail?

Laun. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service? The tide !—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.

Pan. Come, come away, man; I was sent to call thee.

Laun. Sir, call me what thou darest.

Pan. Wilt thou go?
Laun. Well, I will go.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Milan.

An apartment in the Duke's palace. Enter Valentine, Silvia, Thurio, and Speed.

Sil. Servant

Val. Mistress?

Speed. Master, Sir Thurio frowns on you.
Val. Ay, boy, it's for love.
Speed. Not of you.

Val. Of my mistress then.
Speed. "Twere good, you knocked him.
Sil. Servant, you are sad.1
Val. Indeed, madam, I seem so.
Thu. Seem you that you are not?
Val. Haply,2 I do.

(1) Serious.

(2) Perhaps.

.

Thu. So do counterfeits.
Val. So do you.

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

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

Thu. And how quotel 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?

Sil. What, angry, sir Thurio? do you change colour?

Val. Give him leave, madam; he is a kind of cameleon.

Thu. That hath more mind to feed on your blood, than live in your air.

Val. You have said, sir.

Thu. Ay, sir, and done too, for this time. Val. I know it well, sir; you always end ere you begin.

Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off.

Val. 'Tis indeed, madam; 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 ladyship'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 treasure to give your followers; for it appears by their bare liveries, that they live by your bare words.

Sil. No more, gentlemen, no more; here comes my father.

(1) Observe.

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. Duke. Know you Don Antonio, your country

man?

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Val 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 de

serves

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:

(1) Ill betide.

I think, 'tis no unwelcome news to you. Val. Should I have wish'd a thing, it had been he.

Duke. Welcome him then according to his worth ;

Silvia, I speak to you; and you, Sir Thurio :-
For Valentine, I need not citel him to it:
I'll send him hither to you presently. [Exit Duke.
Val. This is the gentleman, I told your ladyship,
Had come along with me, but that his mistress
Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks.
Sil. Belike, that now she hath enfranchis'd
them
Upon some other pawn for fealty.

Val. Nay, sure, I think, she holds them prisoners still.

Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind,

How could he see his way to seek out you?

Val. Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. Thu. They say, that love hath not an eye at all. Val. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself; Upon a homely object love can wink.

Enter Proteus,

Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman.

Val. Welcome, dear Proteus !-Mistress, I beseech you,

Confirm his welcome with some special favour.

Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither, If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from.

Val. Mistress, it is: sweet lady, entertain him 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 :

(1) Incite.

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. [Exit Servant. Come, Sir Thurio, 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 ?

Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much commended.

Val. And how do yours?
Pro.

I left them all in health. Val. How does your lady? and how thrives your love?

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 impericus 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 sor

row.

O, gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord;
And hath so humbled me, as, I confess,

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