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Since maids, in modesty, say No, to that

Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love,

That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse, And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod! How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,

I throw thy name against the bruising stones, Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain. Look, here is writ-love-wounded Proteus;

Which they would have the profferer construe, Ay. Poor wounded name! my bosom, as a bed,

When willingly I would have had her here!
How angerly I taught my brow to frown,
When inward joy enforc'd my heart to smile!
My penance is, to call Lucetta back,
And ask permission for my folly past :-

What ho! Lucetta!

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So gingerly?

Luc. Nothing.

Jul. Why didst thou stoop then?

Luc. To take a paper up that I let fall.

Jul. And is that paper nothing?

Luc. Nothing concerning me.

Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns. Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns,

Unless it have a false interpreter.

Jul. Some love of your's hath writ to you in rhyme.

Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune: Give me a note: your ladyship can set.3

Jul. As little by such toys as may be possible:

Best sing it to the tune of Light o' love.
Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune.

Jul. Heavy? belike it hath some burden then. Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it.

Jul. And why not you?

Luc. I cannot reach so high.

Jul. Let's see your song:-How now, minion? Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out: And yet, methinks, I do not like this tune.

Jul. You do not?

Luc. No, madam; it is too sharp.

Jul. You, minion, are too saucy.

Luc. Nay, now you are too flat,

And mar the concord with too harsh a descant:4 There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.

Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base. Luc. Indeed, I bid the bases for Proteus.

Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.

Here is a coils with protestation!

Shall lodge thee, till thy wound be thoroughly heal'd;
And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
But twice, or thrice, was Proteus written down:
Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away,
Till I have found each letter in the letter,
Except mine own name; that some whirlwind bear
Unto a rugged, fearful, hanging rock,
And throw it thence into the raging sea!
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,-
Poor forlorn Porteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia;-that I'll tear away;
And yet I will not, sith' so prettily
He couples it to his complaining names:
Thus will I fold them one upon another;
Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.

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SCENE III. The same. A Room in Antonio's House. Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO. Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad1o talk was that, Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pant. "Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. Ant. Why, what of him?

Pant.

He wonder'd, that your lordship

Would suffer him to spend his youth at home;
While other men, of slender reputation,
Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:
Some, to the wars, to try their fortune there;
Some, to discover islands far away;
Some, to the studious universities.
For any, or for all these exercises,

He said, that Proteus, your son, was meet;
And did request me, to importune you,
To let him spend his time no more at home,
Which would be great impeachment
In having known no travel in his youth.

to his age,

Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to

that

[Tears the letter. Whereon this month I have been hammering.

Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie:
You would be fingering them, to anger me.

Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be

best pleas'd

To be so anger'd with another letter.

[Exit.

Jul. Nay, would I were as anger'd with the same! O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!

I have consider'd well his loss of time;
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being try'd and tutor'd in the world:
Experience is by industry achiev'd,
And perfected by the swift course of time:
Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him?

1 First folio, ye.

2 Stomach, for passion or obstinacy.

3 Set is here used equivocally; in the preceding speech in the sense in which it is used by musicians, and in the present line in a quite different sense. To set by in old language signifies, to make account of, to estimate. See the first Book of Samuel, xviii. 30.

4 Descant signified formerly what we now call variations. It has been well defined to be musical paraphrase. The mean is the tenor in music.

5 To bid the base means, to run fast, challenging another to pursue at the rustic game called Base, or Prisonbase. The allusion is somewhat obscure, but it appears to mean here, "to challenge to an encounter." 6 i. e. bustle, stir.

7 Since.

8" for catching cold," i. e. lest they should catch cold, anciently a common form of expression. See Horne Tooke's explanation of this word in the first volume of "The Diversions of Purley."

"the

9 Month's mind, a longing, probably from longing of women, which takes place (or commences, at least) in the first month of pregnancy." This is the ingenious conjecture of John Croft, Esq. of York. The commentators have endeavoured to refer this passage to the month's minds, or periodical celebrations in memory of dead persons, usual in times of popery;-but the phrase in this place can have no relation to them. 10 i. e. grave or serions.

11 Impeachment in this passage means reproach or imputation.

1

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Ant. I like thy counsel: well hast thou advised:
And, that thou may'st perceive how well I like it,
The execution of it shall make known;
Even with the speediest expedition

I will despatch him to the emperor's court.

Pant. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Al

phonso,

With other gentlemen of good esteem,
Are journeying to salute the emperor,
And to commend their service to his will.

Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go :
And, in good time, -now will we break with him.

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How happily he lives, how well belov'd
And daily graced by the emperor;
Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.
Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish?
Pro. As one relying on your lordship's will,

And not depending on his friendly wish.

Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish;
Mase not that I thus suddenly proceed;
For what I will, I will, and there an end.
I am resolv'd, that thou shalt spend some time
With Valentinus in the emperor's court;
What maintenance he from his friends receives,
Like exhibition' thou shalt have from me.
To-morrow be in readiness to go:

Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.

Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided; Please you, deliberate a day or two.

Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent

after thee:

No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.-
Come on, Panthino; you shall be employed
To hasten on his expedition.

[Exeunt ANT. and PANT.

Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire, for fear of
burning;
And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd:
I fear'd to shew my father Julia's letter,
Lest he should take exceptions to my love;
And with the vantage of mine own excuse
Hath he excepted most against my love.
0, how this spring of love resembleth
The uncertain glory of an April day;
Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away!

Re-enter PAΝΤΗΙΝΟ.

Pant. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you; He is in haste, therefore, I pray you go.

Pre. Why, this it is! my heart accords thereto; And yet a thousand times it answers, no. [Exeunt.

1 i. e, break the matter to him. aie, wonder not.

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

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 bade you call her?
Speed. Your worship, sir; or else I mistook.
Val. Well, you'll still 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 learned, like Sir Proteus, 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 sigh, like a school-boy that
had lost 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 Hollowmas."
You were wont, when you laugh'd, to crow like a
cock; when you walked, to walk like one of the
lions; when you fasted, it was presently after din-
ner; when you looked sally, it was for want of
money: and now you are metamorphosed with a
mistress, that, when I lood on you, I can hardly
think you my master.

Val. Are all these things perceived in me?
Speed. They are all perceived without you.
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. Hast thou observed that? even she I mean.
Speed. Why, sir, I know her not.

Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her,

and yet know'st her not?

Speed. Is she not hard-favour'd, sir?
Val. Not so fair, boy, as well favour'd.
Speed. Sir, I know that well enough.
Val. What dost thou know?

Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) well

favour'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.

4 Resembleth is pronounced as if written resembeleth, which makes it a quadrisyllable.

5 On and one were anciently pronounced alike, and frequently written so.

6 To take diet is to be under a regimen for a disease. 7 The feast of All-hallows, or All Saints, at which time the poor in Staffordshire go from parish to parish a souling, as they call it; i. e. begging and puling, (or singing small, as Bailey's Dictionary explains puling,) for soul cakes, and singing what they call the souler's song. These terms point out the condition of this benevo

2 Erhibition is allowance of money; it is still used lence, which was, that the beggars should pray for the in the Universities for a stipend.

souls of the giver's departed friends.

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

beauty.

Sil. And, when it's writ, for my sake read it

over:

Speed. You never saw her since she was de- And, if it please you, so; if not, why, so.

formed.

Val. How long hath she been deform'd?

Speed. Ever since you loved her. Val. I have loved 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, that you had mine eyes; or your own eyes had the lights they were wont to have, when you chid at Sir Proteus for going ungartered!1

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 swinged me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you for yours.

Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her. Speed. I would you were set, so, your affection would cease.

Val. Last night she enjoined me to write some lines to one she loves.

Speed. And have you?

Val. I have.

Speed. Are they not lamely writ?

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 SILVIA. Speed. O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, steeple!

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

My master sues 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 scribe, to himself should

write the letter?

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Speed. No believing you indeed, sir: But did

Val. No, boy, but as well as I can do them:- you perceive her earnest?

Peace, here she comes.

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Val. No, madam, so it stead 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.

like it?

Speed. And yet you will; and yet another yet.
[Aside.
Val. What means your ladyship? do you not
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, 1 Going ungartered is enumerated by Rosalind as one of the undoubted marks of love.

"Then your hose should be ungartered, your bonnet unbanded," &c. As You Like It, iii. 2.

2 Set, for seated, in opposition to stand in the preceding line. It appears, however, to be used metaphorically in the sense applied to the sun when it sinks below

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.

therrean end
Speed. And that letter hath she deliver'd, and

Val. I would, it were no worse.

Speed. I'll warrant you, 'tis as well:

For often have you writ to her; and she, in modesty, Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply; Or fearing else some messenger, that might her mind discover,

lover.

Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her
All this I speak in print; for in print I found it.-
Why muse you, sir? 'tis dinner-time.

Val. I have dined.

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[Giving a ring.

Pro. Why then we'll make exchange; here, take you this. Jul. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss. And when that hour o'er-slips me in the day, Pro. Here is my hand for my true constancy; The next ensuing hour some foul mischance Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake, Torment me for my love's forgetfulness! My father stays my coming: answer not: That tide will stay me longer than I should; The tide is now: nay, not thy tide of tears;

[Erit JULIA.

the horizon in the west. It is a miserable quibble hardly worth explanation.

3 Motion signified, in Shakspeare's time, a puppet. show Speed means to say, what a fine puppet-show shall we have now? Here is the principal puppet to whom my master will be the interpreter. The showman was then frequently called the interpreter.

4 i. e. like a scholar.

5 There's the conclusion.

6 i. e. with exactness. 1 Kind, is kindred.

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LAUNCE, leading a Dog.

Laun. Nay, 'twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault; I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think, Crab my dog be the sourest-natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our 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 stone, 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 shoe is my father:-no, this left shoe is my father; -no, no, this left shoe is my mother;-nay, that cannot be so neither; -yes, it is so, it is so; it hath the worser sole; This shoe, with the hole in it, is my mother; and this my father: A vengeance on't! there 'tus: now, sir, this staff is my sister; for, look you, she is as white as a lily, 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, so, so. Now come I to my father; Father, your blessing; now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping; now should I kiss my father; well he weeps on:-now come I to my mother, (0, that could speak 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 sister; mark the moan she makes: now the dog all this while sheds not a tear, nor speaks a word; but see how I lay the dust with my tears.

Enter PANTHINO.

Pan. Launce, away, away, aboard; thy master is shipped, and thou art to post after with oars. What's the matter? why weepest thou, man? Away, ass; you will lose the tide, if you tarry any longer.

Laun. It is no matter if the ty'd were lost; for it is the unkindest ty'd that ever any man ty'd.

Pan. What's the unkindest tide?

Laun. Why, he that's ty'd here; Crab, my dog. Pan. Tut, man, I mean thou'lt lose the flood; and, in losing the flood, lose thy voyage; and, in losing thy voyage, lose thy master; and, in losing thy master, lose thy service; and in losing thy serrice,-Wav dost thou stop my mouth?

Laun. For fear thou shoubi'st lose thy tongue.
Pan, Where should I lose my tongue?
Loun. In thy tale.

Pan. In the tail?

Lean. Lose the tide, and the voyage, and the master, and the service: 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 sighs.

Pan. Come, come away, man; I was sent to

call thee.

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you begin.

Sil. A fine volley of words, gentlemen, and quickly shot off.

Val. 'Tis indeed, madam; we thank the giver.
Sil. Who is that,

Val. Yourself, sweet lady; for you gave the fire: Sir Thurio borrows his wit from your ladyship's looks, and spends what he borrows, kindly in your company.

I shall make your wit bankrupt.

Thu. Sir, if you spend word for word with me,

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 DUKE.

Duke. Now, daughter Silvia, you are hard beset.
Sir Valentine, your father's in good health:
What say you to a letter from your friends
Of much good news?

Val. My lord, I will be thankful
To any happy messenger from thence.

Duke. Know you Don Antonio, your countryman?
To be of worth, and worthy estimation,
Val. Ay, my good lord, I know the gentleman
And not without desert so well reputed.

Duke. Hath he not a son?

Val. Ay, my good lord; a son, that well de

serves

The honour and regard of such a father.
Duke. You know him well?

Val. I knew him as myself; for from our infancy
We have convers'd, and spent our hours together:
And though myself have been an idle truant,
Omitting the sweet benefit of time,
To clothe mine age with angel-like perfection;
Yet hath Sir Proteus, for that's his name,
Made use 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 complete in feature, and in mind,

5 To quote is to mark, to observe, the old pronunciation was evidently cote from the French original.

6 Feature in the poet's age was often used for form or person in general. Thus Baret: "The feature and facion, or the proportion and figure of the whole body. Conformatio quædam et figura totius oris et corporis." So in Ant. and Cleop. Act. ii. Sc. 5. "Report the feature of Octavian."

3 i. e. you are serious.

2 Crazy, wild, distracted,

4 i. c. perhaps.

Thus also Spenser:

"Which the fair feature of her limbs did hide."

Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes,

With all good grace to grace a gentleman.
Duke. Beshrew1 me, sir, but, if he make this And made them watchers of mine own heart's sor-

good,

He is as worthy for an empress' love,
As meet to be an emperor's counsellor.
Well, sir; this gentleman is come to me,
With commendation 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 send him hither to you presently. [Exit DUKE.
Val. This is the gentleman, I told your ladyship,

Had come along with me, but that his mistress
Did hold his eyes lock'd in her crystal looks.

Sil. Belike, that now she hath enfranchis'd them Upon some other pawn for fealty.

Val. Nay, sure, I think, she holds them prisoners

still.

Sil. Nay, then he should be blind; and, being blind,

How could he see his way to seek out you?

Val. Why, lady, love hath twenty pair of eyes. Thu. They say, that love hath not an eye at all. Val. To see such lovers, Thurio, as yourself;

Upon a homely object love can wink.

tleman.

Enter PROTEUS.

Sil. Have done, have done; here comes the genVal. Welcome, dear Proteus! - Mistress, I beseech you,

Confirm his welcome with some special favour.
Sil. His worth is warrant for his welcome hither,
If this be he you oft have wish'd to hear from.
Val. Mistress, it is: sweet lady, entertain him
To be my fellow-servant to your ladyship.

Sil. Too low a mistress for so high a servant.
Pro. Not so, sweet lady; but too mean a ser-

vant

To have a look of such a worthy mistress.

Val. Leave off discourse of disability :Sweet lady, entertain him for your servant. Pro. My duty will I boast of, nothing else. Sil. And duty never yet did want his meed; Servant you are welcome to a worthless mistress. Pro. I'll die on him that says so, but yourself. Sil. That you are welcome? Pro.

No; that you are worthless.

Enter Servant.

Ser. Madam, my lord your father would speak with you.

Sil. I'll wait upon his pleasure. [Erit Servant.
Come, Sir Thurio,

Go with me:-Once more, new servant, welcome:
I'll leave you to confer of home affairs;
When you have done, we look to hear from you.
Pro. We'll both attend upon your ladyship.

[Excunt SILVIA, THUKIO, and SPEED. Val. Now, tell me, how do all from whence you came?

Pro. Your friends are well, and have them much

commended.

Val. And how do yours?
Pro. I left them all in health.

Val. How does your lady? and how thrives your
love?

Pro. My tales of love were wont to weary you; I know you joy not in a love-discourse.

Val. Ay, Proteus, but that life is alter'd now:

I have done penance for contemning love;
Whose high imperious thoughts have punish'd me
With bitter fasts, with penitential groans,
With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs;
For, in revenge of my contempt of love,

1 A petty mode of adjuration equivalent to ill betide

me.

2 Cite, for incite.

Rie imperial. Thus in Hamlet:

"Imperious Cæsar dead and turn'd to clay "

row.

O, gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord;
And hath so humbled me, as, I confess,
There is no woes to his correction,

Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth!
Now, no discourse, except it be of love:
Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep,
Upon the very naked name of love.

Pro. Enough; I read your fortune in your eye: Was this the idol that you worship so?

Val. Even she; and is she not a heavenly saint?
Pro. No; but she's an earthly paragon.
Val. Call her divine.

Pro. I will not flatter ner.

Val. O, flatter me; for love delights in praises, Pro. When I was sick, you gave me bitter pills;

And I must minister the like to you.

Val. Then speak the truth by her; if not divine, Yet let her be a principality, Sovereign to all the creatures on the earth. Pro. Except my mistress. Val. Sweet, except not any, Except thou wilt except against thy love. Pro. Have I not reason to prefer mine own? Val. And I will help thee to prefer her too: She shall be dignified with this high honour, To bear my lady's train; lest the base earth Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss, And, of so great a favour growing proud, Disdain to root the summer-swelling flower,

And make rough winter everlastingly.

Pro. Why, Valentine, what braggardism is this? Val. Pardon me, Proteus: all I can, is nothing To her, whose worth makes other worthies nothing; She is alone.

Pro. Then let her alone.

Val. Not for the world: why, man, she is mine

own;

And I as rich in having such a jewel,
As twenty seas, if all their sand were pearl,
The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold.
Forgive me, that I do not dream on thee,
Because thou seest me dote upon my love.
My foolish rival, that her father likes,
Only for his possessions are so huge,
Is gone with her along; and I must after,
For love, thou know'st, is full of jealousy.

Pro. But she loves you?

Val.

Ay, and we are betroth'd; Nay, more, our marriage hour, With all the cunning manner of our flight, Determin'd of how I must climb her window; The ladder made of cords and all the means Plotted; and 'greed on, for my happiness. Good Proteus, go with me to my chamber, In these affairs to aid me with thy counsel

Pro. Go on before; I shall inquire you forth:
I must unto the road, to disembark
Some necessaries that I needs must use;
And then I'll presently attend you.

Val. Will you make haste?
Pro. I will.-

[Exit VAL.

Even as one heat another heat expels,
Or as one nail by strength drives out another,
So the remembrance of my former love
Is by a newer object quite forgotten.
Is it her mien, or Valentinus' praise,
Her true perfection, or my false transgression,
That makes me, reasonless, to reason thus ?
She's fair; and so is Julia, that I love ;-
That I did love, for now my love is thaw'd;
Which, like a waxen image, 'gainst a fire,"
Bears no impression of the thing it was.
Methinks, my zeal to Valentine is cold;

4 No woe, no misery that can be compared to the punishment inflicted by love.

5 A principality is an angel of the first order

6 i. e. the haven where the ships lie at apcher 7 Alluding to the figures made by witches as regre sentatives of those they meant to destroy or torinent. Macbeth, Act ii. Sc. 3.

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