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go.

And so by many winding nooks he strays

I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd. With willing sport to the wide ocean.

Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and go

not. Then, let me go, and hinder not my course.

Jul. Nay, that I will not. I'll be as patient as a gentle stream,

Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but And make a pastime of each weary step,

If Proteus like your journey, when you come, Till the last step have brought me to my love; No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone. And there I'll rest, as, after much turmoil,

I fear me, he will scarce be pleas'd withal. A blessed soul doth in Elysium.

Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear.
Luc. But in what habit will you go along?

A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
Jul. Not like a woman, for I would prevent And instances as infinite of love,
The loose encounters of lascivious men.

Warrant me welcome to my Proteus.
Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds

Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men. As may beseem some well-reputed page.

Jul. Base men, that use them to so base effect; Luc. Why, then your ladyship must cut your hair. But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth : Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in silken strings, His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles; With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots:

His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate; To be fantastic, may become a youth

His tears, pure messengers sent from his heart; Of greater time than I shall show to be.

His heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth. Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your Luc. Pray heaven, he prove so, when you come to breeches?

him ! Jul. That fits as well, as—"tell me, good my lord, Jul. Now, as thou lov’st me, do him not that wrong, What compass will you wear your farthingale ?" To bear a hard opinion of his truth : Why, even what fashion thou best lik’st, Lucetta. Only deserve my love by loving him,

Luc. You must needs have them with a codpiece, And presently go with me to my chamber, madam,

To take a note of what I stand in need of, Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd. To furnish me upon my loving journey.

Luc. A round bose, madam, now's not worth a pin, All that is mine I leave at thy dispose,
Unless you have a cod piece to stick pins on.

My goods, my lands, my reputation;
Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have Only, in lieu thereof, dispatch me hence.
What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly. Come; answer not, but to it presently :
But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me I am impatient of my tarriance.

[Exeunt. For undertaking so unstaid a journey?

ACT III.
SCENE I.—Milan. An Ante-chamber in the Duke's (A rashness that I ever yet have shunn'd)

I
Palace.

gave him gentle looks; thereby to find

That which thyself hast now disclos’d to me.
Enter Duke, THUrio, and Proteus.

And, that thou may’st perceive my fear of this,
Duke. Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile : Knowing that tender youth is soon suggested,
We have some secrets to confer about.- [Exit Thurio. I nightly lodge her in an upper tower,
Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me? The key whereof myself have ever kept;

Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would discover, And thence she cannot be convey'd away.
The law of friendship bids me to conceal ;

Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean
But, when I call to mind your gracious favours How he her chamber-window will ascend,
Done to me, undeserving as I am,

And with a corded ladder fetch her down; My duty pricks nie on to utter that,

For which the youthful lover now is gone, Which else no worldly good should draw from me. And this way comes he with it presently, Know, worthy prince, sir Valentine, my friend, Where, if it please you, you may intercept him. This night intends to steal away your daughter : But, good my lord, do it so cunningly, Myself am one made privy to the plot.

That my discovery be not aimed at; I know you have determin’d to bestow her

For love of you, not hate unto my friend, On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates; Hath made me publisher of this pretence. And should she thus be stol'n away from you,

Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never know It would be much vexation to your age.

That I had any light from thee of this. Thus, for my duty's sake, I rather chose

Pro. Adieu, my lord: sir Valentine is coming. To cross my friend in his intended drift,

(Exit. Than, by concealing it, heap on your head

Enter Valentine, in his cloak.
A pack of sorrows, which would press you down, Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast?
Being unprevented, to your timeless grave.

Val. Please it your grace, there is a messenger
Dake. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care, That stays to bear my letters to my friends,
Which to requite, command me while I live. And I am going to deliver them.
This love of theirs myself have often seen,

Duke. Be they of much import? Haply, when they have judg’d me fast asleep,

Val. The tenor of them doth but signify And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid

My health, and happy being at your court. Sir Valentine her company, and my court;

Duke. Nay, then no matter : stay with me awhile. But, fearing lest my jealous aim might err,

I am to break with thee of some affairs And so unworthily disgrace the man,

That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret.

"Tis not unknown to thee, that I have sought Under a cloak that is of any length. To match my friend, sir Thurio, to my daughter. Duke. A cloak as long as thine will serve the turn?

Val. I know it well, my lord ; and, sure, the match Val. Ay, my good lord. Were rich and honourable: besides, the gentleman Duke.

Then, let me see thy cloak : Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities

I'll get me one of such another length. Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter.

Val. Why, any cloak will serve the turn, my lord. Cannot your grace win her to fancy bim?

Duke. How shall I fashion me to wear a cloak?Duke. No, trust me : she is peevish, sullen, froward, I pray thee, let me feel thy cloak upon me.Proud, disobedient, stubborn, lacking duty;

What letter is this same? What's here?-" To Silvia ?" Neither regarding that she is my child,

And here an engine fit for my proceeding! Nor fearing me as if I were her father:

[Ladder and letter fall out. And, may I say to thee, this pride of hers

I'll be so bold to break the seal for once.

[Reads. Upon advice hath drawn my love from her ;

My thoughts do harbour with my Silvia nightly; And, where I thought the remnant of mine age

Ånd slaves they are to me, that send them flying : Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty, 0! could their master come and go as lightly, I now am full resolv'd to take a wife,

Himself would lodge, where senseless they are lying. And turn her out to who will take her in :

My herald thoughts in thy pure bosom rest them; Then, let her beauty be her wedding-dower;

While I, their king, that thither them importune, For me and my possessions she esteems not.

Do curse the grace that with such grace hath bless'd them, Val. What would your grace have me to do in this ? Because myself do want my servant's fortune. Duke. There is a lady in Milano here,

I curse myself, for they are sent by me, Whom I affect; but she is nice, and coy,

That they should harbour where their lord should be." And nought esteems my aged eloquence :

What's here? Now, therefore, would I have thee to my tutor, “Silvia, this night I will enfranchise thee :" (For long agone I have forgot to court;

'Tis so; and here's the ladder for the purpose. Besides, the fashion of the time is chang'd)

Why, Phaëton, (for thou art Merops' son) How, and which way, I may bestow myself,

Wilt thou aspire to guide the heavenly car, To be regarded in her sun-bright eye.

And with thy daring folly burn the world? Val. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words. Wilt thou reach stars, because they shine on thee? Dumb jewels often, in their-silent kind,

Go, base intruder; over-weening slave :
More than quick words do move a woman's mind. Bestow thy fawning smiles on equal mates,

Duke. But she did scorn a present that I sent her. And think my patience, more than thy desert,
Val. A woman sometime scorns what best contents Is privilege for thy departure hence.
her.

Thank me for this, more than for all the favours Send her another; never give her o'er,

Which, all too much, I have bestow'd on thee: For scorn at first makes after-love the more.

But if thou linger in my territories If she do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,

Longer than swiftest expedition But rather to beget more love in you:

Will give thee time to leave our royal court, If she do chide, 'tis not to have you gone,

By heaven, my wrath shall far exceed the love For why, the fools are mad, if left alone.

I ever bore my daughter, or thyself. Take no repulse, whatever she doth say;

Begone: I will not hear thy vain excuse; For “get you gone,” she doth not mean, "away." But, as thou lov'st thy life, make speed from hence. Flatter, and praise, commend, extol their graces ;

[Exit Duke. Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces. Val. And why not death, rather than living torment? That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, To die is to be banish'd from myself, If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her, Duke. But she I mean is promis'd by her friends Is self from self; a deadly banishment. Unto a youthful gentleman of worth,

What light is light, if Silvia be not seen? And kept severely from resort of men,

What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by ?
That no man hath access by day to her.

Unless it be, to think that she is by,
Val. Why, then I would resort to her by night. And feed upon the shadow of perfection.

Duke. Ay, but the doors be lock'd, and keys kept safe, Except I be by Silvia in the night,
That no man hath recourse to her by night.

There is no music in the nightingale ;
Val. What lets, but one may enter at her window? Unless I look on Silvia in the day,

Duke. Her chamber is aloft, far from the ground, There is no day for me to look upon.
And built so shelving, that one cannot climb it She is my essence; and I leave to be,
Without
apparent hazard of his life.

If I be not by her fair influence
Val. Why then, a ladder quaintly made of cords, Foster'd, illumin’d, cherish’d, kept alive.
To cast up, with a pair of anchoring hooks,

I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom :
Would serve to scale another Hero's tower,

Tarry I here, I but attend on death; So bold Leander would adventure it.

But, fly I hence, I fly away from life. Duke. Now, as thou art a gentleman of blood,

Enter PROTEUS and LAUNCE. Advise me where I may have such a ladder.

Pro. Run, boy; run, run, and seek him out.
Val. When would you use it? pray, sir, tell me that. Launce. So-ho! so-ho!
Duke. This very night; for love is like a child, Pro. What seest thou?
That longs for every thing that he can come by. Launce. Him we go to find : there's not a hair on's

Val. By seven o'clock I'll get you such a ladder. head, but 'tis a Valentine.
Duke. But hark thee; I will go to her alone.

Pro. Valentine?
How shall I best convey the ladder thither?

Val. No.
Val. It will be light, my lord, that you may bear it Pro. Who then ? his spirit?

now,

Val. Neither.

the wit to think, my master is a kind of a knave; but Pro. What then?

that's all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not Val. Nothing.

that knows me co be in love: yet I am in love; Launce. Can nothing speak ? master, shall I strike? but a team of horse all not pluck that from me, nor Pro. Whom wouldst thou strike?

who 'tis I love; ard yet 'tis a woman: but what Launce. Nothing.

woman, I will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milkPro. Villain, forbear.

maid; yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips : Launce. Why, sir, I'll strike nothing : I pray you, yet 'tis a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves Pro. Sirrah, I say, forbear.-Friend Valentine, a for wages. She hath more qualities than a waterword.

spaniel, which is much in a bare Christian. Here is Val. My ears are stopp'd, and cannot hear good news, the cat-log (pulling out a paper] of her conditions. So much of bad already hath possess'd them. Imprimis, “ She can fetch and carry." Why, a horse

Pro. Then in dumb silence will I bury mine, can do no more: nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only For they are harsh, untuneable, and bad.

carry; therefore, is she better than a jade. Item, Val. Is Silvia dead?

“She can milk;" look you, a sweet virtue in a maid Pro. No, Valentine.

with clean hands. Val. No Valentine, indeed, for sacred Silvia !

Enter Speed. Hath she forsworn me?

Speed. How now, signior Launce? what news with Pro. No, Valentine.

your mastership? Val. No Valentine, if Silvia have forsworn me ! Launce. With my master's ship? why, it is at sea. What is your news?

Speed. Well, your old vice still; mistake the word. Launce. Sir, there is a proclamation that you are What news, then, in your paper ? vanish'd.

Launce. The blackest news that ever thou heard'st. Pro. That thou art banish'd: 0! that is the news, Speed. Why, man, how black ? From hence, from Silvia, and from me, thy friend. Launce. Why, as black as ink. Val. O! I have fed upon this woe already,

Speed. Let me read them. And now excess of it will make me surfeit.

Launce. Fie on thee, jolt-head! thou canst not read. Doth Silvia know that I am banished?

Speed. Thou liest, I can. Pro. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom, Launce. I will try thee. Tell me this: who begot thee? (Which, unrevers'd, stands in effectual force)

Speed. Marry, the son of my grandfather. A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears :

Launce. O, illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd, grandmother. This proves that thou canst not read. With them, upon her knees, her humble self;

Speed. Come, fool, come : try me in thy paper. Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them, Launce. There, and saint Nicholas be thy speed ! As if but now they waxed pale for woe:

Speed. Imprimis, “She can milk.”
But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,

Launce. Ay, that she can.
Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears, Speed. Item, “She brews good ale.”
Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire,

Launce. And thereof comes the proverb, - Blessing But Valentine, if he be ta’en, must die.

of your heart, you brew good ale. Besides, her intercession chaf*d him so,

Speed. Item, “She can sew.' When she for thy repeal was suppliant,

Launce. That's as much as to say, Can she so ? That to close prison he commanded her,

Speed. Item,“ She can knit." With many bitter threats of 'biding there.

Launce. What need a man care for a stock with a Val. No more ; unless the next word that thou wench, when she can knit him a stock? speak'st

Speed. Item, “She can wash and scour.” Have some malignant power upon my life:

Launce. A special virtue; for then she need not be If so, I pray thee, breathe it in mine ear,

wash'd and scour'd. As ending anthem of my endless dolour.

Speed. Item, "She can spin." Pro. Cease to lament for that thou canst not help, Launce. Then may I set the world on wheels, when And study help for that which thou lamentest, she can spin for her living. Time is the nurse and breeder of all good.

Speed. Item, “She hath many nameless virtues.” Here if thou stay, thou canst not see thy love;

Launce. That's as much as to say, bastard virtues; Besides, thy staying will abridge thy life.

that, indeed, know not their fathers, and therefore Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that,

have no names. And manage it against despairing thoughts.

Speed. Here follow her vices.
Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence; Launce. Close at the heels of her virtues.
Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver'd

Speed. Item, “She is not to be kissed fasting, in · Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.

respect of her breath." The time now serves not to expostulate :

1.aunce. Well, that fault may be mended with a Come, I'll convey thee through the city-gate,

breakfast. Read on. And, ere I part with thee, confer at large

Speed. Item, “She hath a sweet mouth." Of all that may concern thy love affairs.

Launce. That makes amends for her sour breath. As thou lov'st Silvia, though not for thyself,

Speed. Item, “She doth talk in her sleep." Regard thy danger, and along with me.

Launce. It's no matter for that, so she slip not in Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou seest my boy, her talk. Bid him make haste, and meet me at the north-gate. Speed. Item, “She is slow in words." Pro. Go, sirrah, find him out. Come, Valentine. Launce. O villain ! that set this down among her Val. O my dear Silvia! hapless Valentine ! vices? To be slow in words is a woman's only virtue :

[Exeunt Valentine and Proteus. I pray thee, out with't, and place it for her chief virtue. Launce. I am but a fool, look you, and yet I have Speed. Item, “She is proud."

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Launce. Out with that too: it was Eve's legacy, Makes me the better to confer with thee. and cannot be ta'en from her.

Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your grace, Speed. Item, “She hath no teeth."

Let me not live to look upon your grace. Launce. I care not for that neither, because I love Duke. Thou know'st how willingly I would effect crusts.

The match between sir Thurio and my daughter. Speed. Item, “She is curst."

Pro. I do, my lord. Launce. Well; the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. Duke. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant Speed. Item, "She will often praise her liquor." How she opposes her against my will.

Launce. If her liquor be good, she shall : if she will Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here. not, I will; for good things should be praised.

Duke. Ay, and perversely she persevers so. Speed. Item, “She is too liberal.”

What might we do to make the girl forget Launce. Of her tongue she cannot, for that's writ The love of Valentine, and love sir Thurio? down she is slow of: of her purse she shall not, for Pro. The best way is, to slander Valentine that I'll keep shut: now, of another thing she may, and With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent; that cannot I help. Well, proceed.

Three things that women highly hold in hate. Speed. Item, “She hath more hair than wit, and Duke. Ay, but she'll think that it is spoke in hate. more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.” Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it :

Launce. Stop there; I'll have her: she was mine, Therefore, it must, with circumstance, be spoken and not mine, twice or thrice in that last article. By one whom she esteemeth as his friend. Rehearse that once more.

Duke. Then, you must undertake to slander bim. Speed. Item, “She hath more hair than wit,"- Pro. And that, my lord, I shall be loth to do:

Launce. More hair than wit,-it may be; I'll prove 'Tis an ill office for gentleman, it: the cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore Especially, against his very friend. it is more than the salt: the hair, that covers the wit, Duke. 'Where your good word cannot advantage him, is more than the wit, for the greater hides the less. Your slander never can endamage him : What's next?

Therefore, the office is indifferent, Speed. -“ And more faults than hairs,”— Being entreated to it by your friend. Launce. That's monstrous: 0, that that were out! Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord. If I can do it, Speed. -“And more wealth than faults."

By aught that I can speak in his dispraise, Launce. Why, that word makes the faults gracious. She shall not long continue love to him. Well, I'll have ber; and if it be a match, as nothing But say, this wean her love from Valentine, is impossible,

It follows not that she will love sir Thurio. Speed. What then?

Thu. Therefore, as you unwind her love from him, Launce. Why, then will I tell thee,--that thy master Lest it should ravel and be good to none, stays for thee at the north-gate.

You must provide to bottom it on me; Speed. For me?

Which must be done, by praising me as much Launce. For thee? ay; who art thou? he hath As you in worth dispraise sir Valentine. stay'd for a better man than thee.

Duke. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind, Speed. And must I go to him?

Because we know, on Valentine's report, Launce. Thou must run to him, for thou hast stay'a You are already love's firm votary, so long, that going will scarce serve the turn. And cannot soon revolt, and change your mind.

Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner? pox of your Upon this warrant shall you have access love letters !

[Exit, running. Where you with Silvia may confer at large; Launce. Now will he be swing’d for reading my For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy, letter. An unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself And for your friend's sake will be glad of you, into secrets.—I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correc- When you may temper her, by your persuasion, tion.

[Exit. To hate young Valentine, and love my friend. SCENE II.— The Same. An Apartment in the

Pro. As much as I can do I will effect.
Duke's Palace.

But you, sir Thurio, are not sharp enough;

You must lay lime to tangle her desires
Enter Duke and THURIO.

By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes
Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love you, should be full fraught with serviceable vows.
Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight.

Duke. Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred poesy. Thu. Since his exile she hath despis'd me most; Pro. Say, that upon the altar of her beauty Forsworn my company, and rail'd at me,

You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart. That I am desperate of obtaining her.

Write, till your ink be dry, and with your tears
Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure Moist it again ; and frame some feeling line,
Trenched in ice, which with an hour's heat

That
may

discover strict integrity : Dissolves to water, and doth lose his form.

For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews, A little time will melt her frozen thoughts,

Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones, And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.

Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans
Enter Proteus.

Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.
How now, sir Proteus! Is your countryman, After your dire-lamenting elegies,
According to our proclamation, gone?

Visit by night your lady's chamber window
Pro. Gone, my good lord.

With some sweet consort: to their instruments Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously. Tune a deploring dump; the night's dead silence Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief. Will well become such sweet complaining grievance.

Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so. This, or else nothing, will inherit her. Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee,

Duke. This discipline shows thou hast been in love. (For thou hast shown sure sign of good desert)

Thu. And thy advice this night I'll put in practice.

Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver,
Let us into the city presently,
To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music.
I have a sonnet that will serve the turn
To give the onset to thy good advice.

Duke. About it, gentlemen.

Pro. We'll wait upon your grace till after supper,
And afterward determine our proceedings.
Duke. Even now about it: I will pardon you.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV.
SCENE I.-A Forest, between Milan and Verona.

But to the purpose ; for we cite our faults,
Enter certain Outlaws.

That they may hold excus’d our lawless lives :

And, partly, seeing you are beautify'd 1 Out. Fellows, stand fast: I see a passenger. With goodly shape ; and by your own report 2 Out. If there be ten, shrink not, but down with 'em. A linguist, and a man of such perfection, Enter VALENTINE and Speed.

As we do in our quality much want, 3 Out. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about 3 Out. Indeed, because you are a banish'd man, you;

Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you.
If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you.

Are you content to be our general ?
Speed. Sir, we are undone. These are the villains To make a virtue of necessity,
That all the travellers do fear so much.

And live, as we do, in this wilderness?
Val. My friends,

3 Out. What say'st thou? wilt thou be of our consort? 1 Out. That's not so, sir : we are your enemies. Say, ay, and be the captain of us all. 2 Out. Peace! we'll hear him.

We'll do thee homage, and be ruld by thee, 3 Out. Ay, by my beard, will we; for he is a proper Love thee as our commander, and our king. man.

1 Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. Val. Then know, that I have little wealth to lose. 2 Out. Thou shalt not live to brag what we have A man I am cross'd with adversity :

offer'd. My riches are these poor habiliments,

Val. I take your offer, and will live with you; of which if you should here disfurnish me,

Provided that you do no outrages You take the sum and substance that I have.

On silly women, or poor passengers. 2 Out. Whither travel you?

3 Out. No; we detest such vile, base practices. Val. To Verona.

Come, go with us : we'll bring thee to our cave, 1 Out. Whence came you?

And show thee all the treasure we have got, Val. From Milan.

Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. (Exeunt. 3 Out. Have you long sojourn'd there?

SCENE II.-Milan. The Court of the Palace. Val. Some sixteen months; and longer might have stay'd,

Enter Proteus. If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.

Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine, 2 Out. What! were you banish'd thence ?

And now I must be as unjust to Thurio. Val. I was.

Under the colour of commending him, 2 Out. For what offence ?

I have access my own love to prefer ; Val. For that which now torments me to rehearse. But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy, I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent;

To be corrupted with my worthless gifts. But yet I slew him manfully, in fight,

When I protest true loyalty to her, Without false vantage, or base treachery.

She twits me with my falsehood to my friend; 1 Out. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so. When to her beauty I commend my vows, But were you banish’d for so small a fault ?

She bids me think how I have been forsworn, Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doom. In breaking faith with Julia whom I lov'd : 1 Out. Have you the tongues ?

And, notwithstanding all her sudden quips, Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy, The least whereof would quell a lover's hope, Or else I had been often miserable.

Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love, 3 Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar, The more it grows, and fawneth on her still. This fellow were a king for our wild faction.

But here comes Thurio. Now must we to her window, 1 Out. We'll have him. Sirs, a word.

And give some evening music to her ear. [They talk apart.

Enter Thurio, and Musicians. Speed. Master, be one of them :

Thu. How now, sir Proteus ! are you crept before us? It is an honourable kind of thievery.

Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio; for, you know, that love Val. Peace, villain !

Will creep in service where it cannot go. 2 Out. Tell us this : have you any thing to take to? Thu. Ay; but I hope, sir, that you love not here. Val. Nothing, but my fortune.

Pro. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence. 3 Out. Know then, that some of us are gentlemen, Thu. Whom? Silvia ? Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth

Pro. Ay, Silvia,- for your sake. Thrust from the company of awful men:

Thu. I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen, Myself was from Verona banished,

Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile. For practising to steal away a lady,

Enter Host and Julia (in boy's clothes), behind. An heir, and near allied unto the duke.

Host. Now, my young guest; methinks you're ally2 Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, cholly: I pray you, why is it? Who, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart.

Jul. Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry. 1 Out. And I, for such like petty crimes as these. Host. Come, we'll have you merry. I'll bring you

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