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АстІІ.

S CE N E I.

Changes to Milan.

An Apartment in the Duke's Palace.

Enter Valentine and Speed.

ST

SPEED.
IR, your glove-

Val. Not mine; my gloves are on.
Speed. Why then this may be yours, for this is but

one.

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Val. Ha ! let me see: ay, give it me, it's mine :
Sweet ornament, that decks a thing divine !
Ah, Silvia ! Silvia!

Speed. Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia!
Val. How now, Sirrah?
Speed. She is not within hearing, Sir.
Val. Why, Sir, who bad you call her?
Speed. Your worship, Sir, or else I mistook.
Val. Well, you'll ftill be too forward.
Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow.
Val. Go to, Sir; tell me, do you know Madam

Silvia?
Speed. She, that your worship loves ?
Val. Why, how know you that I am in love?

Speed. Marry, by these special marks; first, you have learn'd, like Sir Protheus, to wreath your arms like a male-content; to relish a love-song, like a Robin-red-breast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to figh, like a school-boy that had loft his A, B, C; to weep, like a young wench that had buried her grandam ; to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one that fears robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmass. You were wont,

when

when you laugh’d, to crow like a cock; when you walk'd, to walk like one of the lions; when

you fafted, it was presently after dinner; when you look'd sadly, it was for want of money; and now you are metamorphos'd with a mistress, that, when I look on you, I can hardly think you my master.

Val. Are all these things perceiv'd in me?
Speed. They are all perceiv'd without ye.
Val. Without me? they cannot.

Speed. Without you? nay, that's certain; for without you were so simple, none else would; But you are so without these Follies, that these follies are within you, and shine through you like the water in an urinal ; that not an eye that sees you, but is a physician to comment on your malady.

Val. But tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia? Speed. She, that you gaze on so as she sits at supper? Val. Haft thou observ'd that? ev'n she I mean.

Speed. Why, Sir, I know her not? [ Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet know'ft her not?

Speed. Is she not hard-favour'd, Sir?
Val. Not fo fair, boy, as well-favour'd.
Speed. Sir, I know ihat well enough.
Val. What doft thou know?
Speed. That she is not so fair, as of you well-fa-

vour'd.
Val. I mean that her beauty is exquisite,
But her Favour infinite.

Speed. That's because the one is painted, and the other out of all count.

Val. How painted ? and how out of count?

Speed. Marry, Sir, so painted to make her fair, that no man counts of her beauty.

Val. How esteem'st thou me? I account of her beauty.

Speed. You never saw her since she was deform’d. Val. How long has she been deform'd ?

Speed.

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Speed. Ever since you lov'd her. .

Val. I have lov'd her, ever since I saw her ;
And still I see her beautiful.

Speed. If you love her, you cannot see her.
Val. Why?
Speed. Because love is blind. O,

O, that you had mine eyes, or your own eyes had the lights they were wont to have, when you chid at Sir Protheus for going ungarter'd!

Val. What should I see then ?

Speed. Your own present folly, and her passing deformity: For he, being in love, could not see to garter his hose; and you, being in love, cannot see to put on your

hose. Val. Belike, boy, then you are in love : for last morning you could not see to wipe my shoes.

Speed. True, Sir, I was in love with my bed ; I thank you, you swing'd me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide

you

for
Val. In conclusion, I ftand affected to her.

Speed. I would you were fet, fo your affe&ion would cease.

Val. Last night she injoin'd me to write some lines to one she loves.

Speed. And have you ?
Val. I have.
Speed. Are they not lamely writ?

Val. No, boy, but as well as I can do them :
Peace, here she comes.

Enter Silvia.
Speed. Oh excellent motion! Oh exceeding puppet!
Now will he interpret to her.

Val. Madam and mistress, a thousand good mor

yours.

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rows.

Speed. Oh! give ye good ev'n; here's a million of

manners.

Sil. Sir Valentine and fervant, to you two thousand.

Speed.

Speed. He should give her interest ; and she gives it him.

Val. As you injoin'd me, I have writ your letter, Unto the secret, nameless, friend of yours ; Which I was much unwilling to proceed in, But for my duty to your ladyship.

Sil. I thank you, gentle servant ; 'tis very clerkly done.

Val. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off: For being ignorant to whom it goes, I writ at random, very doubtfully.

Sil. Perchance, you think too much of so much pains ?

Val. No, madam, so it steed you, I will write, Please you command, a thousand times as much.

And yet

Sil. A pretty period ; well, I guess the sequel ;
And
yet
I will not name it ;

and
yet

I care not ;
And yet take this again, and yet I thank you;
Meaning henceforth to trouble

you no more Speed. And yet you will; and yet, another yet.

.

[Aside. Val. What means your ladyship ? do you not like it ?

Sil. Yes, yes, the lines are very quaintly writ ;.
But since unwillingly, take them again;
Nay, take them.

Val. Madam, they are for you.

Sil. Ay, ay; you writ them, Sir, at my request ; But I will none of them; they are for you: I would have had them writ more movingly.

Val. Please you, I'll write your ladyship another.

Sil. And when it's writ, for my fake read it over; And if it please you, so; if not, why so.

Val. If it please me, madam, what then?

Sil. Why if it please you, take it for your labour; And so good morrow, servant.

[Exit. Speed, O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible,

As

As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a

steeple ! My Master fues to her, and she hath taught her suitor, He being her pupil, to become her tutor : O excellent device ! was there ever heard a better? That my master, being the scribe, to himself should

write the letter ? Val. How now, Sir, what are you reasoning with yourself?

Speed. Nay, I was rhiming; 'tis you that have the reason.

Val. To do what ?
Speed. To be a spokesman from madam Silvia.
Val. To whom ?

Speed. To yourself ; why, she wooes you by a
figure.
Val. What figure?
Speed. By a letter, I should say.
Val. Why, she hath not writ to me ?

Speed. What need fhe,
When she hath made you write to yourself ?
Why, do you not perceive the jest?

Val. No, believe me.

Speed. No believing you, indeed, Sir: but did you perceive her earnest?

Val. She gave me none, except an angry word.
Speed. Why, she hath given you a letter.
Val. That's the letter I writ to her friend.

Speed. And that letter hath she deliver'd, and there's an end.

Val. I would it were no worse.

Speed. I'll warrant you, 'tis as well: For often have you writ to her ; and fhe in modesty, Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply ; Or fearing else some messenger, that might her mind dis

cover, Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover. All this I speak in print; for in print I found it.

Why

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