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maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity; yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear! he is a ftone, a very pebble-stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have wept, to have seen our parting, why, my grandam having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I'll show you the manner of it: this fhoe- is my father: no, this left fhoe is my father; no, no, this left shoe is my mother; nay, that cannot be so neither; yes, it is fo, it is fo; it hath the worfer fole; this fhoe with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father; a vengeance on't, there 'tis: now, Sir, this staff is my fifter; for, look you, fhe is as white as a lilly, and as small as a wand; this hat is Nan, our maid; I am the dog: no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog: oh, the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, fo, fo; now come I to my father; father, your bleffing; now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping; now fhould I kifs my father; well, he weeps on; now come I to my mother, oh that she could fpeak now!-like a wood woman! well, I kiss her; why there 'tis; here's my mother's breath up and down: now come I to my fifter: mark the moan fhe makes: now the dog all this while fheds not a tear, nor fpeaks a word; but fee, how I lay the duft with my tears.

Enter Panthion.

PAN. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy master is fhipp'd, and thou art to poft after with oars: what's the matter? why weep'ft thou, man? away, afs, you will lofe the tide if you tarry any longer.

LAUN. It is no matter if the ty'd were loft, for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever any man ty'd.

PAN. What's the unkindeft tide?

LAUN. Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my dog.

PAN. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lose the flood; and in lofing the flood, lofe thy voyage; and in lofing thy voyage, lose thy mafter; and in losing thy mafter, lose thy fervice; and in lofing thy service, why dost thou ftop my mouth? LAUN. For fear thou should'ft lose thy tongue. PAN. Where should I lofe my tongue?

LAUN. In thy tale..

PAN. In thy tail?—

LAUN. Lose the flood, and the voyage, and the master, and the fervice, and 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 fighs.

PAN. Come, come away, man; I was fent to call thee. LAUN. Sir, call me what thou dar'ft.

PAN. Wilt thou go?

LAUN. Well, I will go..


Changes to Milan.

An apartment in the duke's palace.

Enter Valentine, Silvia, Thurio, and Speed.

SIL. Servant,

VAL. Miftrefs?

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 knockt him.

SIL. Servant, you are fad.

VAL. Indeed, madam, I feem fo.

THU. Seem you that you are not?
VAL. Haply, I do.

THU. So do counterfeits.

VAL. So do you.

THU. What feem I, that I am not?
VAL. Wife.

THU. What inftance of the contrary?
VAL. Your folly.

THU. And how quote you my folly?

VAL. I quote it in your jerkin.

THU. My jerkin is a doublet.

VAL. Well, then, I'll double your folly.


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 faid, Sir.

THU. Ay, Sir, and done too, for this time.

VAL. I know it well, Sir; you always end, ére you begin.

SIL. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly

fhot off.

VAL. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver.
SIL. Who is that, fervant?

VAL. Yourself, fweet lady, for you gave the fire: Sir Thurie borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks, and fpends, 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.


Enter the Duke.

DUKE. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard befet.
Sir Valentine, your father's in good health;
What fay you to a letter from your friends

Of much good news?.

VAL. My lord, I will be thankful

To any happy meffenger from thence.

DUKE. Know you Don Anthonio, your countryman ? VAL. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman

To be of worth and worthy estimation;

And, not without defert, fo well reputed.

DUKE, Hath he not a fon?

VAL. Ay, my good lord, a fon that well deferves The honour and regard of fuch a father.

DUKE. You know him well?

VAL. I knew him, as myfelf; for, from our infancy
We have converft, and spent our hours together:
And tho' myfelf have been an idle truant,
Omitting the fweet benefit of time,

To cloath mine age with angel-like perfection;
Yet hath Sir Protheus, for that's his name,
Made ufe 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 compleat in feature and in mind,
With all good grace to grace a gentleman.
DUKE. Befhrew me, Sir, but if he makes this good,
He is as worthy for an emprefs' love.

As meet to be an emperor's counsellor.
Well, Sir, this gentleman is come to me,
With commendations from great potentates;
And here he means to spend his time a while.
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 cite him to it:
I'll fend him hither to you, prefently.

[Exit Duke.
VAL. This is the gentleman, I told your ladyship,
Had come along with me, but that his mistress
Did hold his eyes lockt in her crystal looks.

SIL. Belike, that now fhe hath enfranchis'd them Upon fome other pawn for fealty.

VAL. Nay, fure, I think, fhe holds them pris'ners still. SIL. Nay, then he should be blind: and, being blind, How could he fee his way to feek out you?

VAL. Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. THU. They fay, that love hath not an eye at all. VAL. To fee fuch lovers, Thurio, as yourself: Upon a homely object love can wink.


Enter Protheus.

SIL. Have done, have done; here comes the gentleman. VAL. Welcome, dear Protheus: mistress, I beseech you,

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