PERSONS OF THE DRAMA.

DUKE OF MILAN, father to Sylvia.
VALENTINE,
Gentlemen of Verona.
lemen

PROTEUS,
ANTONIO, father to Proteus.

THURIO, a foolish rival to Valentine.
EGLAMOUR, agent for Sylvia, in her escape.
SPEED, a clownish servant to Valentine.
LAUNCE, servant to Proteus.
PANTHINO, servant to Antonio.
Host, where Julia lodges in Milan.
Out-laws.

JULIA, a lady of Verona, beloved by Proteus.
SILVIA, the duke's daughter, beloved by Valentine.
LUCETTA, waiting-woman to Julia.

Servants, musicians.

SCENE, sometimes in Verona; sometimes in Milan; and on the frontiers of Mantua.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-An open place in Verona.

Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS.

Val. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus; Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits: Wer't not, affection chains thy tender days To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love, I rather would entreat thy company,

VOL. XI.

To see the wonders of the world abroad,
Than living dully sluggardiz'd at home,

Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.
But, since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein,
Even as I would, when I to love begin.

Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu!
Think on thy Proteus, when thou, haply, seest
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:
Wish me partaker in thy happiness,

When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger,
If ever danger do environ thee,

Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers,
For I will be thy bead's-man, Valentine.

Val. And on a love-book, pray for my success.
Pro. Upon some book, I love, I'll pray for thee.
Val. That's on some shallow story of deep love,
How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont.

Pro. That's a deep story of a deeper love;

For he was more than over shoes in love.

Val. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love,

And yet you never swom the Hellespont.

Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots. Val. No, I'll not, for it boots thee not.

Pro. What?

Val. 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.

Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool.
Val. So, by your circumstance, I fear, you'll prove.
Pro. 'Tis love you cavil at; I am not Love.
Val. Love is your master, for he masters you:
And he, that is so yoked by a fool,

Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise.
Pro. Yet writers say, As in the sweetest bud
The eating canker dwells, so eating love
Inhabits in the finest wits of all.

Val. And writers say, As the most forward bud
Is eaten by the canker ere it blow,

Even so by love the young and tender wit

Is turn'd to folly; blasting in the bud,
Losing his verdure even in the prime,
And all the fair effects of future hopes.
But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee,
That art a votary to fond desire?

Once more adieu: my father at the road

Expects my coming, there to see me shipp❜d.

Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.

Val. 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
Betideth here in absence of thy friend;
And I likewise will visit thee with mine.

Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan!
Val. As much to you at home! and so, farewell.
[Exit VALENTINE,
Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love:
He leaves his friends, to dignify them more;