Val. And why not death rather than living torment?
To die, is to be banish'd from myself;
And Silvia is myself: banish'd from her,
Is felf from felf; a deadly banishment!
What light is light, if Silvia be not feen?
What joy is joy, if Silvia be not by?
Unless it be to think that she is by,
And feed upon the fhadow of perfection.
Except I be by Silvia in the night
There is no mufic in the nightingale;
Unless I look on Silvia in the day
There is no day for me to look upon;
She is my effence; and I leave to be,
If I be not by her fair influence
Fofter'd, illumin'd, cherish'd, kept alive.
I fly not death, to fly his deadly doom:
Tarry I here, I but attend on death;
But, fly I hence, I fly away from life.

Enter PROTHEUS and LAUNCE.

Pro. Run, boy, run; run, and feek him out,
Laun. So-ho! fo-ho!

Pro. What fee'ft thou?

Laun. Him we go to find: there's not a hair On's head but 'tis a Valentine.

Pro. Valentine?

Val. No.

Pro. Who then? his spirit?

Val. Neither. I

Pro. What then?

Val. Nothing.

Laun. Can nothing speak? mafter, fhall I ftrike?
Pro. Whom would'ft thou ftrike?

Laun. Nothing.

Pro. Villain, forbear.

Laun. Why, fir, I'll ftrike nothing: I pray you-
Pro. Sirrah, I fay, forbear: Friend Valentine, a word.
Val. My ears are stopp'd, and cannot hear good news,
So much of bad already hath poffefs'd them.

Pro. Then in dumb filence will I bury mine,
For they are harsh, untuneable, and bad.
C4

Val.

Val. Is Silvia dead?

Pro. No, Valentine.

Val. No Valentine, indeed, for facred Silvia!Hath fhe forfworn me?

Pro. No, Valentine.

Val. No, Valentine, if Silvia have forfworn me !— What is your news?

Laun. Sir, there's a proclamation that you are vanish'd,
Pro. That thou art banifh'd, oh, that is the news!
From hence, from Silvia, and from me thy friend.
Val. Oh, I have fed upon this wo already,
And now excess of it will make me furfeit.
Doth Silvia know that I am banish'd?

Pro. Ay, ay; and fhe hath offer'd to the doom
(Which, unrevers'd, ftands in effectual force)
A fea of melting pearl, which fome call tears:
Thofe at her father's churlish feet fhe tender'd;
With them, upon her knees, her humble self,
Wringing her hands, whose whiteness fo became thern
As if but now they waxed pale for wo:
But neither bended knees, pure hands held up,
Sad fighs, deep groans, nor filver-fhedding tears,
Could penetrate her uncompaffionate fire;
But Valentine, if he be ta'en, must die.
Befides, her interceffion chaf'd him fo,
When the for thy repeal was fuppliant,
That to close prifon he commanded her,
With many bitter threats of 'biding there.

Val. No more; unless the next word that thou speak'st Have fome malignant power upon my life:

If fo, I pray thee breathe it in mine car,

As ending anthem of my endless dolour.

Pro. Čeafe to lament for that thou can't not help.

And ftudy help for that which thou lament'ft.
Time is the nurfe and breeder of all good,
Here if thou ftay, thou can'ft 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
Even in the milk-white bofom of thy love.
The time now ferves not to expoftulate :
Còme, 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, though not for thyself,
Regard thy danger, and along with me.

Val. I pray thee, Launce, an if thou fee'ft 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! haplefs Valentine!

[Exeunt VALENTINE and PROTHEUS Laun. I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to think my mafter is a kind of a knave: but that's ail one if he be but one knave. He lives not now that knows me to be in love: yet I am in love; but a team of horse 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: yet 'tis a maid, for fhe is her master's maid, and ferves for wages. She hath more qualities than a waterfpaniel-which is much in a bare Chriftian. Here is the cat-log [Pulling out a paper] of her conditions, Imprimis, She can fetch and carry: Why, a horfe can do no more: nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore is she better than a jade. Item, She can milk, look you: A fweet virtue in a maid with clean hands.

Enter SPEED.

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

Laun. With my mafter's fhip? why, it is at fea.
Speed. Well, your old vice ftill; miftake the word

What news then in your paper?

Laun. The blackeft news that ever thou heardst.

Speed. Why, man, how black?

Laun. Why, as black as ink,

Speed. Let me read them.

Laun. Fie on thee, jolt-head; thou canst not read.

Speed.

Speed. Thou lieft, 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 canst 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 the can.

Speed. Item, She brews good ale.

Laun. And therefore comes the proverb-Bleffing of

your heart, you brew good ale.

Speed. Item, She can few.

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 she can knit him a stock.

Speed. Item, She can wash and fcour.

Laun. A special virtue; for then fhe 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. Close at the heels of her virtues.

Speed. Item, She is not to be kiss'd fafting, in respect of

ber breath.

Laun. Well that fault may be mended with a breakfast: Read on.

Speed. Item, She hath a fweet mouth.

Laun. That makes amends for her four breath.

Speed. Item, She doth talk in her sleep.

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

Speed. Item, She is flow in words.

Laun. O villain! that fet down among her vices! To

be

be flow in words is a woman's only virtue: I

out with't; and place it for her chief virtue. Speed. Item, She is proud.

pray thee,

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 crusts.
Speed. Item, She is curft.

Laun. Well; the best is, fhe hath no teeth to bite.
Speed. Item, She will often praife her liquor.

Laun. If her liquor be good the fhall: if he will not I will; for good things fhould be praised.

Speed. Item, She is too liberal.

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

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

Laun. Stop there; I'll have her: fhe was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that last article.

that once more.

Rehearse

it:

Speed. Item, She hath more hair than witLaun. More hair than wit-it may be; I'll prove The cover of the falt hides the falt, and therefore it is more than the falt: the hair that covers the wit is 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 fault 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 ftaid for a better man than thee.

Speed. And muft I go to him?

7

Lann.