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DUKE OF MILAN, Father to Silvia.
Gentlemen of Verona.
JULIA, a lady of Verona, beloved by Proteus.
SCENE-Sometimes in Verona ; sometimes in Milan;
and on the frontiers of Mantua.
SCENE I.--An open Place in Verona.
Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS.
Proteus. Wilt thou begone? Sweet Valentine, adieu !
my success. Proteus. Upon some book I love, I'll pray
for thee. Valentine. That's on some shallow story of deep love. How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont.
Proteus. That's a deep story of a deeper love; For he was more than over shoes in love.
Valentine. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love, And yet you never swam the Hellespont.
Proteus. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots.?
To be In love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks, With heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth, With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights: If haply won, perhaps, a hapless gain; If lost, why then a grievous labour won; However, but a folly bought with wit, Or else a wit by folly vanquished,
Proteus. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool Valentine. So, by your circumstance, I fear, you'll
prove. Proteus. 'Tis love you cavil at; I am not love.
Valentine. Love is your master, for he masters you:
Proteus. Yet writers say, As in the sweetest bud
Valentine. And writers say, As the most forward bud
Proteus. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. Valentine. Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our
leave. At Milan let me hear from thee by letters, Of thy success in love, and what news else
1 A humorous punishment at harvest-home, feasts, &c.
Betideth here in absence of thy friend;
Proteus. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan!
[Exit VALENTINE. Proteus. He after honour haunts, I after love: He leaves his friends to dignify them more; I leave myself, my friends, and all for love. Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphos'd me; Made me neglect my studies, lose my time. War with good counsel, set the world at nought; Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought.
Proteus. Indeed a sheep doth very often stray,
then, and I a sheep? Proteus. I do. Speed. Why then my horns are his horns, whether I
wake or sleep. Proteus. A silly answer, and fitting well à sheep. Speed. This proves me still a sheep. Proteus. True; and thy master a shepherd. Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance. Proteus. It shall go hard, but I'll prove it by another.
Speed. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks not me; therefore, I am no sheep.
Proteus. The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd, the shepherd for food follows not the sheep; thou for wages followest thy master, thy master for wages follows not thee: therefore, thou art a sheep.
Speed. Such another proof will make me cry baa.