JUL. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd. Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not wor:h a pin, Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on.

JUL. Lucetta, as thou lov'ft me, let me have What thou think'ft meet, and is most mannerly: But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me For undertaking fo unftaid a journey?

I fear me, it will make me fcandaliz'd.

Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and go not.
JUL. Nay, that I will not.

Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go.
If Protheus like your journey, when you come,
No matter who's difpleas'd, when you are gone :
I fear me, he will fcarce be pleas'd withal.

JUL. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear;
A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
And inftances as infinite of love,

Warrant me welcome to my Protheus.

Luc. All these are fervants to deceitful men.
JUL. Bafe men, that use them to fo base effect!
But truer stars did govern Protheus' birth;
His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles;
His love fincere, his thoughts immaculate;
His tears, pure messengers fent from his heart;
His heart as far from fraud, as heav'n from earth.

Luc. Pray heav'n he prove fo, when you come to him! JUL. Now, as thou lov'ft me, do him not that wrong, To bear a hard opinion of his truth;

Only deserve my love, by loving him;
And prefently go with me to my chamber,
To take a note, of what I ftand in need of,
To furnish me upon my longing journey.

All that is mine I leave at thy'difpofe,
My goods, my lands, my reputation;
Only, in lieu thereof, difpatch me hence.
Come, answer not, but do it presently;
I am impatient of my tarriance.

SIR Thurio, give us leave, I pray, a while;

[Exeunt,

We have fome fecrets to confer about. [Exit Thur. Now tell me, Protheus, what's your will with me?

PRO. My gracious lord, that which I would discover,
The law of friendship bids me to conceal ;

But when I call to mind your gracious favours
Done to me, undeferving as I am,

My duty pricks me on to utter that,

Which, elfe, no worldly good fhould draw from me.
Know, worthy prince, Sir Valentine my friend
This night intends to steal away your daughter:
Myfelf am one made privy to the plot.
I know, you have determin'd to beltow her
On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates:
And should the thus be flol'n away from you,
It would be much vexation to your age.
Thus, for my duty's fake, I rather chofe
To cross my friend in his intended drift;
Than by concealing it, heap on your head
A pack of forrowe, which would prefs you down,

Being unprevented, to your timeless grave.

DUDE. Protheus, I thank thee for thine honeft care;
Which to requite, command me while I live.

This love of theirs myself have often seen,
Haply, when they have judg'd me fast asleep;
And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid
Sir Valentine her company, and my court:
But, fearing left my jealous aim might err,
And fo unworthily disgrace the man,
(A rashness that I ever yet have fhunn'd;)
I gave him gentle looks; thereby to find
That which thyself haft now difclos'd to me.
And that thou may'ft perceive my fear of this,
Knowing that tender youth is foon fuggested,
1 nightly lodge her in an upper tower,
The key whereof myself have ever kept;
And thence the cannot be convey'd away,

PRO. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a mean
How he her chamber-window will afcend,
And with a corded ladder fetch her down;
For which the youthful lover now is gone,
And this way comes he with it prefently:
Where, if it please you, you may intercept him.
But, good my lord, do it fo cunningly,

That my discov'ry be not aim'd at;

For love of you, not hate unto my friend,
Hath made me publisher of this pretence.

DUKE. Upon mine honour, he fhall never know

That I had any light from thee of this.

PRO. Adieu, my lord: Sir Valentine is coming [Exit Pro.

SCENE II.

Enter Valentine.

DUKE. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast?
VAL. Please it your Grace, there is a messenger
That stays to bear my letters to my friends,
And I am going to deliver them.

DUKE. Be they of much import?

VAL. The tenour of them doth but fignify My health, and happy being at your court.

DUKE. Nay then, no matter; stay with me a while; I am to break with thee of fome affairs,

That touch me near; wherein thou must be fecret.
"Tis not unknown to thee, that I have fought
To match my friend, Sir Thurio, to my daughter.
VAL. I know it well, my lord, and, fure, the match
Were rich and honourable; befides, the gentleman
Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities
Beseeming such a wife as your fair daughter.
Cannot your grace win her to fancy him?

DUKE. No, trust me; she is peevish, fullen, froward,
Proud, difobedient, ftubborn, lacking duty;
Neither regarding that she is my child,
Nor fearing me as if I were her father.
And may I fay to thee, this pride of hers,
Upon advice, hath drawn my love from her;
And, where I thought the remnant of mine age
Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty,
I now am full resolv'd to take a wife,
And turn her out to who will take her in.
Then let her beauty be her wedding dower,
For me, and my poffeffions, the esteems not.

VAL. What would your grace have me to do in this? DUKE. There is a lady, Sir, in Milan, here, Whom I affect; but she is nice and coy, And nought esteems my aged eloquence: Now therefore would I have thee to my tutor, (For long agone I have forgot to court; Befides, the fashion of the time is chang'd) How, and which way, I may bestow myself, To be regarded in her fun-bright eye.

VAL. Win her with gifts, if the refpects not words; Dumb jewels often in their filent kind,

More than quick words, do move a woman's mind.

DUKE. But the did fcorn a present that I sent her.

VAL. A woman fometimes fcorns what beft contents her; Send her another; never give her o'er ;

For fcorn at first makes after-love the more.

If the do frown, 'tis not in hate of you,
But rather to beget more love in you:
If the do chide, 'tis not to have you gone?
For why, the fools are mad if left alone.
Take no repulfe, whatever she doth fay;

66

For, get you gone," fhe doth not mean away:"

Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces;
Tho' ne'er so black, fay, they have angel's faces.
That man that hath a tongue, I fay, is no man,
If with his tongue he cannot win a woman.

DUKE. But the I mean, is promis'd by her friends
Unto a youthful gentleman of worth,

And kept feverely from refort of men,

That no man hath accefs by day to her.

VAL. Why then I would refort to her by night..

DUKE. Ay, but the doors be lockt, and keys kept safe,