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EPILOGUE.-Spoken by PROSPERO.

Now my charms are all o'erthrown, And what strength I have's mine own; Which is most faint: now, 'tis true, I must be here confined by you, Or sent to Naples: Let me not, Since I have my dukedom got, And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell In this bare island, by your spell; But release me from my bands, With the help of your good hands. Applause; noise was supposed to dissolve a spell.

Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please: Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be reliev'd by prayer;
Which pierces so, that it assaults
Mercy itself, and frees all faults.

As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.

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

SCENE I-An open Place in Verona.

ACT I.

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 horor'd love, I rather would entreat thy company, 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 begone? 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 swam the Hellespont.
Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots.'
Val. No, I'll not, for it boots thee not.

Pro. Val.

What?

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;

A humorous punishment at harvest-home feasts, &c.

If lost, why then a grievous labor 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 its 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 honor hunts, 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.

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Speed. Why then my horns are his horns, whether I wake or sleep.

Pro. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep. Speed. This proves me still a sheep. Pro. True; and thy master a shepherd. Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance. Pro. 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.

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 follows not thee: therefore thou art a sheep.

Speed. Such another proof will make me cry baa. Pro. But dost thou hear? gav'st thou my letter to Julia?

Speed. Ay, sir: I, a lost mutton, gave your letter

to her, a laced mutton;2 and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a lost mutton, nothing for my labor. Pro. Here's too small a pasture for such a store

of muttons.

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Speed. I.

[SPEED nods.

Pro. Nod, I? why, that's noddy.3 Speed. You mistook, sir; I say, she did nod: and you ask me, if she did nod; and I say, I.

Pro. And that set together, is-noddy. Speed. Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for your pains.

Pro. No, no, you shall have it for bearing the letter. Speed. Well, I perceive, I must be fain to bear with you.

Pro. Why, sir, how do you bear with me? Speed. Marry, sir, the letter very orderly; having nothing but the word, noddy, for my pains.

Pro. Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit. Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse. Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief: What said she?

Speed. Open your purse, that the money, and the matter, may be both at once delivered.

Pro. Well, sir, here is for your pains: What said she?

Speed. Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her.
Pro. Why? Couldst thou perceive so much

from her?

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Speed. 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'll 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?

Speed. No, not so much as- -take this for thy pains. To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testern'd' me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself: and so, sir, I'll commend

you to my master.

Pro. Go, go, begone, to save your ship from wreck;

Which cannot perish, having thee aboard,
Being destined 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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same. Garden of Julia's house.

Enter JULIA and LUCETTA.

Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love?
Jul. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone,
Luc. Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheed-
fully.

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'll show According to my shallow simple skill. my mind

Jul. What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour? 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
name?

That I, unworthy body as I am,
Luc. Pardon, dear madam; 'tis a passing shame,

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

best.

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 him?

Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.
Jul. Why, he of all the rest, hath never mov'd me.
Luc. Yet he of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.
Jul. His little speaking shows his love but small.
Luc. Fire, that is closest kept, burns most of all.
Jul. They do not love, that do not show their love.
Luc. O, they love least, that let men know their
love.

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,

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Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker!"
Dare you presume to harbor wanton lines?
To whisper and conspire against my youth?
Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great 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.

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 so anger'd with the same! O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!

Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than Injurious wasps! to feed on such sweet honey, hate.

Jul. Will you begone?
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

And kill the bees, that yield it, with your stings!
I'll kiss each several paper for amends.
And 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.
Look, here is writ-love-wounded Proteus:-
Poor wounded name! my bosom as a bed,
Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd:

Which they would have the profferer construe, Ay. And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.

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 angrily I taught my brow to frown,
When inward joy enforc'd my heart to smile!
My penance is, to call Lucetta back,
And ask remission for my folly past:-
What ho! Lucetta!

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Luc.

Nothing.

What is't you took up

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 yours hath writ to you in
rhyme.

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
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;
There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.
Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base.
Luc. Indeed I did the base' for Proteus.
Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.
Here is a coil with protestation!

• Matchmaker.

[Tears the letter.

Passion or obstinacy.

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'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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I see things too, although you judge I wink.
Jul. Come, come, will't please you go? [Exeunt.
SCENE III.-The same. A Room in Antonio's
House.

Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO.

Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad3 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 impórtune 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 impórtune me to
that

Whereon this month I have been hammering.
I have consider'd well his loss of time;
And how he cannot be a perfect man,

A term in music.

2

The tenor in music.
Bustle, stir.

* Serious.

'A challenge.

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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?
Pant. I think, your lordship is not ignorant,
How his companion, youthful Valentine,
Attends the emperor in his royal court.

Ant. I know it well.

Pant. '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 execution

I will dispatch 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."

Enter PROTEUS.

Pro. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life!
Here is her hand the agent of her heart;
Here is her oath for love, her honor's pawn:
O, that our fathers would applaud our loves,
To seal our happiness with their consents!
O heavenly Julia!

Ant. How now? what letter are you reading there?

Pro. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or

two

Of commendation sent from Valentine,

Deliver'd by a friend that came from him.

Pro. There is no news, my lord; but that he writes

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.
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 employ'd
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 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 takes all away!

Re-enter PANTHINO.

Pant. 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;

Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news. And yet a thousand times it answers, no. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-Milan. An Apartment in the Duke's robin-red-breast; to walk alone, like one that had

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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 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

Break the matter to him.

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 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. 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 a 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. Allowance.

* Wonder. Under a regimen.

1 Allhallowmas.

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