Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphosed 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
Spe. Sir Proteus, save you. Saw you my master ?
Pro. But now he parted hence to embark for
Spe. Twenty to one then, he is shipp'd already,
And I have play'd the sheep in losing him.
Pro. Indeed, a sheep doth very often stray,
An if the shepherd be a while away.
Spe. You conclude that my master is a shepherd,
then, and I a sheep ?
Pro. I do.
Spe. Why then my horns are his horns, whether
I wake or sleep.
Pro. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep.
Spe. This proves me still a sheep.
Pro. True ; and thy master a shepherd.
Spe. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance.
Pro. It shall go hard but I '11 prove it by another.
Spe. 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
Pro. 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 f ollows not thee : therefore thou art a sheep.
Spe. Such another proof will make me cry Baa.
Pro. But, dost thou hear ? gavest thou my
letter to Julia ?
Spe. Ay, sir : I, a lost mutton, gave your letter
to her, a laced mutton, and she, a laced mutton,
gave me, a lost mutton, nothing for my labour.
Pro. Here 's too small a pasture for such store
Spe. If the ground be overcharged, you were
best stick her.
Pro. Nay, in that you are astray ; 'twere best
THE Two GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.
ACT I., Sc. 2.
Spe. Nay, sir, less than a pound snail serve me
for carrying your letter.
Pro. You mistake ; I mean the pound, a pinfold.
Spe. From a pound to a pin ? fold it over and
'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to
Pro. But what said she ? [Speed nods.'] Did she
Pro. Nod ay ? why, that 's noddy.
Spe. You mistook, sir : I say she did nod ; and
you ask me, if she did nod, and I say ay.
Pro. And that set together is noddy.
Spe. Now you have taken the pains to set it to-
gether, take it for your pains.
Pro. No, no, you shall have it for bearing the
Spe. Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with
Pro. Why, sir, how do you bear with me ?
Spe. Marry, sir, the letter very orderly, having
nothing but the word noddy for my pains.
Pro. Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit.
Spe. And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse.
Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief;
what said she ?
Spe. Open your purse, that the money and the
matter, may be both at once deliver'd.
Pro. Well, sir, he re is for your pains. What said
Spe. Truly, sir, I think you '11 hardly win her.
Pro. Why ? couldst thou perceive so much from
Spe. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from
her ; no, not so much as a ducat for delivering
your letter : and being so hard to me that brought
your mind, I fear she '11 prove as hard to you in
telling her mind. Give her no token but stones,
for she 's as hard as steel.
Pro. What ! said she nothing ?
Spe. No, not so much as take this for thy pains.
To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have
testerned me ; in requital whereof, henceforth
carry your letters yourself : and so, sir, I '11 com-
mend you to my master.
Pro. Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from
Which cannot perish having thee aboard,
Being destin'd to a drier death on shore :
I must go send some better messenger,
I fear my Julia would not deign my lines,
Receiving them from such a worthless post.
Scene II. Julias Garden.
Enter Julia and Lucetta.
Jul. But, say, Lucetta (now we are alone)
Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love ?
Luc. Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheed-
Jul. Of all the fair resort of gentlemen,
That every day with parle encounter me,
In thy opinion which is worthiest love ?
Luc. Please you, repeat their names, I '11 show
According to my shallow simple skill.
Jul. What think' st thou of the fair Sir Egla-
Luc. As of a knight well-spoken, neat and fine;
But, were I you, he never should be mine.
Jul. What think' st thou of the rich Mercatio ?
Luc. Well of his wealth ; but of himself, so so.
Jul. What think' st thou of the gentle Proteus ?
Luc. Lord, lord, to see what folly reigns in us.
Jul. How now ! what means this passion at his
Luc. Pardon, dear madam, 'tis a passing shame,
That I, unworthy body as I am,
Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.
Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest ?
Luc. Then thus, of many good I think him
Jul. Your reason?
Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason :
I think him so, because I think him so.
Jul. And wouldst thou have me cast my love on
Luc. Ay; if you thought your love not cast
Jul. Why he, of all the rest, hath never mov'd
Luc. Yethe, of all the rest, I think, bestloves ye.
Jul. His little speaking shows his love but
Luc. Fire that 's closest kept, burns most of all.
Jul. They do not love, that do not show their
Luc. O, they love least, that let men know their
Jul. I would I knew his mind.
Luc. Peruse this paper, madam.
Jul. To Julia. Say, from whom ?
Luc. That, the contents will show.
Jul. Say, say, who gave it thee ?
Luc. Sir Valentine's page ; and sent, I think,
He would have given it you, but I, being in the Avay ,
Did in your name receive it ; pardon the fault I
Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker :
Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines ?
To whisper and conspire against my youth ?
Now trust me, 'tis an office of g*eat worth,
And you an officer fit for the place.
There ; take the paper : see it be return'd,
Or else return no more into my sight.
Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than
Jul. Will you be gone ?
Luc. That you may ruminate. Exit.
Jul. And yet I would I had o'erlook'd the letter ;
It were a shame to call her back again,
And pray her to a fault, for which I chid her.
What fool is she, that knows I am a maid,
And would not force the letter to my view ?
Since maids, in modesty, say No, to that
Which they would have the profferer construe,
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,
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 !
ACT I., Sc. 3.
THE Two GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.
My penance is, to call Lucetta back,
And ask remission for my folly past.
What ho! Lucetta.
Luc. What would your ladyship ?
Jul. Is 't near dinner-time ?
Luc. I would it were,
That you might kill your stomach on your meat,
And not upon your maid.
Jul. What is 't that you took up so gingerly ?
Jul. Why did'st 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 yours hath writ to you in
Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune :
Give me a note, your ladyship can set.
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
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
And yet methinks I do not like this tune.
Jul. You do not?
Luc. No madam; 'tis too sharp.
Jul. You, minion, are too saucy.
Luc. Nay, now you are too flat,
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant :
There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.
Jul. The mean is drown' d with your unruly
Luc. Indeed I bid the base for Proteus.
Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble
Here is a coil with protestation !
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
To be so anger'd with another letter.
Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the
hateful hands, to tear such loving words !
Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey,
And kill the bees that yield it, with your stings !
1 '11 kiss each several paper for amends.
Look, here is writ kind Julia. Unkind Julia,
As in revenge of thy ingratitude,
I throw thy name against the bruising stones,
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.
And here is writ love wounded Proteus :
Poor wounded name ! my bosom, as a bed,
Shall lodge thee, till thy wound be throughly
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 ragged, fearful, hanging rock,
And throw it thence into the raging sea.
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,
Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia : that I '11 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.
Dinner is ready, and your father stays.
Jul. WeU, let us go.
Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales
Jul. If you respect them, best to take them up.
Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them
Yet here they shall not lie for catching cold.
Jul. I see you have a month's mind to them.
Luc. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you
I see things too, although you judge I wink.
Jul. Come, come, will 't please you go ?
Scene III. Antonio's House.
Enter Antonio and Panthino.
Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that,
Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister ?
Pan. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son
Ant. Why? what of him?
Pan. 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 to his age,
In having known no travel in his youth.
Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to
Whereon this month I have been hammering.
I have consider' d well his loss of time,
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being tried 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 ?
Pan. I think your lordship is not ignorant
How his companion, youthful Valentine,
Attends the emperor in his royal court.
Ant. I know it well.
Pan. 'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent
him thither :
There shall he practise tilts and tournaments,
Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen,
And be in eye of every exercise
Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.
Ant . I like thy counsel ; well hast thou advis'd :
And that thou mayst 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.
THE Two GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.
ACT II., Sc. 1.
Pan. To-morrow, may it please yon, Don
With other gentlemen of good esteem,
Are journeying to salute the emperor,
And to commend their service to his will.
Ant. Goodcompany; with them shall Proteus go:
And, in good time : now will we break with him.
Pro. Sweet love, sweet lines, sweet life,
Here is her hand, the agent of her heart ;
Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn.
O that our fathers would applaud our loves,
To seal our happiness with their consents.
heavenly Julia !
Ant. How now? what letter are you reading
Pro . May 't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two
Of commendations sent from Valentine ;
Deliver'd by a friend that came from him.
Ant. Lend me the letter ; let me see what news.
Pro. There is no news, my lord ; but that he
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 :
Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed ;
For what I will, I will, and there an end.
1 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 employ 'd
To hasten on his expedition.
Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire, for fear of
And drench 'd me in the sea, where I am drown' d.
I fear'd to show 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.
O 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 takee all away.
Pan. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you,
He is in haste, therefore I pray you go.
Pro. Why, this it is : my heart accords thereto,
And yet a thousand times 'it answers No. Exeunt.
Scene I. Milan. The Duke's Palace.
Enter Valentine, Speed and Silvia,
je. Sir, your glove.
il. Not mine ; my gloves are on.
Spe. Why then this may be yours, for this is
Vol. Ha ! let me see : ay, give it me, it 's mine.
Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine
A i OM r*< ! i
An, feilvia, bilvia !
Spe. Madam Silvia ! Madam Silvia !
Vol. How now, sirrah !
Spe. She is not within hearing, sir.
Vol. Why, sir, who bade you call her ?
Spe. Your worship, sir ; or else I mistook.
Vol. Well : you '11 still be too forward.
Spe. And yet I was last chidden forbeingtooslow.
Vol. Go to, sir. Tell me, do you know Madam
Spe. She that your worship loves ?
Vol. Why, how know you that I am in love ?
Spe. Marry, by these special marks : first, you
have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreathe your
arms, like a malcontent ; to relish a love-song, like
a robin-redbreast ; to walk alone, like one that had
the pestilence ; to sigh, like a schoolboy 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 Hallowmas.
You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a
cock ; when you walked, to walk like one of the
lions ; when you fasted, it was presently after
dinner ; when you looked sadly, it was for want of
money : and now you are metamorphosed with a
mistress, that when I look on you, I can hardly
think you my master.
Vol. Are all these things perceived in me ?
Spe. They are all perceived without ye.
Vol. Without me ? they cannot.
Spe. 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, that not
an eye that sees you, but is a physician to com-
ment on your malady.
Vol. But tell me, dost thou know my lady
Spe. She that you gaze on so, as she sits at
Vol. Hast thou observed that? even she I mean.
Spe. Why, sir, I know her not.
Vol. Dost thou know her by my gazing on her,
and yet knowest her not ?
Spe. Is she not hard-favoured, sir ?
Vol. Not so fair, boy, as well-favoured.
Spe. Sir, I know that well enough.
Vol. What dost thou know?
Spe. That she is not so fair, as (of you) well-
Vol. I mean, that her beauty is exquisite, but
her favour infinite.
Spe. That 's because the one is painted, and the
other out of all count.
Vol. How painted ? and how out of count ?
Spe. Marry, sir, so painted to make her fair,
that no man counts of her beauty.
Veil. How esteemest thou me ? I account of
Spe. You never saw her since she was deformed.
Vol. How long hath she been deformed ?
Spe. Ever since you loved her.
Vol. I have loved her ever since I saw her, and
still I see her beautiful.
ACT II., Sc. 2.
THE Two GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.
Spe. If you love her, you cannot see her.
Spe . Because Love is blind. O, that you had
mine eyes, or your own eyes had the lights they
uiTt 1 wont to have, when you chid at Sir Proteus
for going ungartered !
Vol. What should I see then?
Spe. 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.
Vol. Belike, boy, then you are in love, for last
morning you could not see to wipe my shoes.
Spe. 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.
Vol. In conclusion, I stand affected to her.
Spe. I would you were set, so your affection
Vol. Last night she enjoined me to write some
lines to one she loves.
Spe. And have you ?
Vol. I have.
Spe. Are they not lamely writ ?
Vol. No, boy, but as well as I can do them.
Peace ! here she comes.
Spe. O excellent motion ! exceeding puppet !
now will he interpret to her.
Vol. Madam and mistress, a thousand good-
Spe. Oh ! give ye good even, here 's a million of
Sil. Sir Valentine and servant, to you two
Spe. He should give her interest, and she gives
Val. As you en join' d me, I have writ your
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
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
Val. No, madam ; so it stead you, I will write,
Please you command a thousand times as much :
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.
Spe. And yet you will ; and yet another yet.
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 '11 write your ladyship
Sil. And, when it 's writ, for my sake read it
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
And so good-morrow, servant. Exit.
Spe. O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible,
As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a
My master sues to her ; and she hath taught her
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 ?
Val. How now, sir? what are you reasoning
with yourself ?
Spe. Nay, I was rhyming : 'tis you that have the
Val. To do what?
Spe. To be a spokesman from Madam Silvia.
Val. To whom?
Spe. To yourself. Why, she wooes you by a
Val. What figure?
Spe. By a letter, I should say.
Val. Why, she hath not writ to me ?
Spe. What need she, when she hath made you
write to yourself ? Why, do you not perceive the
Val. No, believe me.
Spe. No believing you indeed, sir. But did you
perceive her earnest?
Val. She gave me none, except an angry word.
Spe. Why, she hath given you a letter.
Val. That 's the letter I writ to her friend.
Spe. And that letter hath she delivered, and
there an end.
Val. I would it were no worse.
Spe. I '11 warrant you, 'tis as well :
For often have you writ to her ; and she, in
Or else for want of idle time, could not again
Or fearing else some messenger that might her
Herself hath taught her love himself to write
unto her lover.
All this I speak in print, for in print I found it.
Why muse you, sir? 'tis dinner-time.
Val. I have dined.
Spe. Ay, but hearken, sir ; though the chameleon
Love can feed on the air, I am one that am
nourished by my victuals, and would fain have
meat. O, be not like your mistress ; be moved, be
Scene II. Verona.
Enter Proteus and Julia.
Pro. Have patience, gentle Julia.
Jul. I must, where is no remedy.
Pro. When possibly I can, I will return.
Jul. If you turn not, you will return the sooner.
Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's sake.
Pro. Why, then, we '11 make exchange ; here,
take you this.
Jul. And seal the bargain with a holy kiss.
Pro. Here is my hand for my true constancy :
And when that hour o'er-slips me in the day,
THE Two GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.
ACT II., Sc. 4.
Wherein I sigh not Julia for thy sake,
The next ensuing hour some foul mischance
Torment me for my love's forgetfulness :
My father stays my coming : answer not.
The tide is now : nay, not thy tide of tears ;
That tide will stay me longer than I should :
Julia, farewell : what, gone without a word?
Ay, so true love should do : it cannot speak,
For truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace it.
Pan. Sir Proteus : you are stay'd for.
Pro. Go ; I come, I come.
Alas ! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb.
Scene III. Verona.
Enter Launce and a dog.
Lau. 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 '11 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 'tis: 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 Mss my father ; well, he weeps on. Now
come I to my mother ; that she 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.
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 '11 lose the tide, if you tarry any
Lau. It is no matter if the tied were lost ; for