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With twenty thoufand foul-confirming oathis.

I cannot leave to love, and yet I do:

But there I leave to love where I should love:
Julia I lofe, and Valentine I lofe:

If I keep them, I needs muft lofe myself:
If I lose them, this find I by their lofs,
For Valentine, myself; for Julia, Silvia.
I to myself am dearer than a friend;
For love is ftill moft precious in itself:

1

And Silvia (witnefs Heav'n, that made her fair!)
Shews Julia but a fwarthy Ethiope.

I will forget that Julia is alive,
Rememb'ring that my love to her is dead:
And Valentine I'll hold an enemy,
Aiming at Silvia as a fweeter friend.

I cannot now prove conftant to myself,
Without fome treachery us❜d to Valentine:
This night, he meaneth with a corded ladder
To climb celeftial Silvia's chamber-window,
Myfelf in counfel his competitor.

Now prefently I'll give her father notice
Of their difguifing, and pretended flight:
Who, all enrag'd, will banish Valentine:
For Thurio he intends fhall wed his daughter.
But, Valentine being gone, I'll quickly crofs,
By fome fly trick, blunt Thurio's dull proceeding.
Love, lend me wings to make my purpose fwift,
As thou haft lent me wit to plot this drift!

[Exit. ›

SCENE X. Changes to Julia's houfe in Verona.

Enter Julia and Lucetta.

Jul. Counfel, Lucetta; gentle girl, affist me;
And, even in kind love, I do conjure thee,
Who art the table wherein all my thoughts
Are vifibly character'd and engrav'd,
To leffon me; and tell me fome good mean,
How with my honour I may undertake
A journey to my loving Protheus,

Luc. Alas! the way is wearifome and long.
ful. A true devoted pilgrim is not weary

VOL. I.

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To measure kingdoms with his feeble fteps;
Much less shall the, that hath love's wings to fly;
And when the flight is made to one fo dear,
Of fuch divine perfection, as Sir Protheus.

Luc. Better forbear, till Protheus make return.
Jul. Oh, know it thou not, his looks are my foul's food?
Pity the dearth that I have pined in,

By longing for that food fo long a time.
Didft thou but know the inly touch of love,
Thou would'st as foon go kindle fire with fnow,
As feek to quench the fire of love with words.

Luc. I do not feek to quench your love's hot fire,
But qualify the fire's extreme rage,

Left it fhould burn above the bounds of reafon.

Jul. The more thou damm'ft it up, the more it burns:
The current that with gentle murmur glides,
Thou know'ft, being flopp'd, impatiently doth rage;
But when his fair courfe is not hindered,

He makes sweet mufic with th' enamel'd ftones;
Giving a gentle kiss to every fedge

. He overtaketh in his pilgrimage:

And fo by many winding nooks he strays,
With willing fport to the wild ocean.
Then let me go, and hinder not my course:
I'll be as patient as a gentle ftream,
• And make a paftime of each weary step,
Till the laft ftep have brought me to my love;
And there I'll reft, as, after much turmoil,
A bleffed foul doth in Elyfium.'

Luc. But in what habit will you go along?
Jul. Not like a woman; for I would prevent
The loofe encounters of lafcivious men:

Gentle Lucet, fit me with fuch weeds

As may befeem fome well-reputed page.

Luc. Why then your Ladyfhip muit cut your hair. Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in filken ftrings, With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots:

To be fantastic, may become a youth

Of

greater time than I fhall fhew to be.

Luc. What fashion, Madam, fhall I make your breeches?

al. That fits as well, as

"Lord,

"tell me, good my

"What

"What compass will you wear your farthingale?"
Why, even what fashion thou beft lik'ft, Lucetta.
Luc. You must needs have them with a cod-piece,
Madam.

Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd. Luc. A round hofe, Madam, now's not worth a pin, Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on.

Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'it me, let me have What thou think'ft meet, and is moft mannerly. But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me For undertaking fo unstaid a journey?

I fear me it will make me fcandaliz'd.

Luc. If you think fo, then stay at home,
Jul. Nay, that I will not.

and go not.

go.

Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but
If Protheus like your journey, when you come,
No matter who's difpleas'd, when you are gone:
I fear me he will scarce be pleas'd withal.

Jul. That is the leaft, Lucetta, of my fear:
A thoufand oaths, an ocean of his tears,
And inftances as infinite of love,

Warrant me welcome to my Protheus.

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Luc. All thefe are fervants to deceitful men, Jul. Bafe men, that use them to fo bafe effect! But truer ftars did govern Protheus' birth: His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles; His love fincere, his thoughts immaculate; His tears, pure meffengers fent from his heart; His heart as far from fraud, as heav'n from earth. Luc. Pray heav'n he prove fo when you come to him! Jul. Now, as thou lov'it me, do him not that wrong, To bear a hard opinion of his truth;

Only deferve my love, by loving him;

And prefently go with me to my chamber,

To take a note of what I ftand in need of,
To furnish me upon my longing journey.
All that is mine I leave at thy difpofe,
My goods, my lands, my reputation;
Only, in lieu thereof, dispatch me hence.i
Come, anfwer not; but do it prefently:
I am impatient of my tarriance.

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[Exeunt

ACT

ACT III. SCENE I.

The Duke's palace in Milan.

Enter Duke, Thurio, and Protheus.

Duke. SIR Thurio, give us leave, I pray, a while;

We have fome fecrets to confer about.
(Exit Thur.
Now tell me, Protheus, what's your will with me?
Pro. My gracious Lord, that which I would discover,
The law of friendship bids me to conceal;

But when I call to mind your gracious favours
Done to me, undeserving as I am,

My duty pricks me on to utter that,

Which, elfe, no worldly good fhould draw from me.
Know, worthy Prince, Sir Valentine my friend
This night intends to fteal away your daughter:
Myself am one made privy to the plot.
I know you have determin'd to bestow her
On Thurio, whom your gentle daughter hates:
And should she thus be stol'n away from
you,
It would be much vexation to your age.
Thus, for my duty's fake, I rather chofe
To cross my friend in his intended drift;
Than, by concealing it, heap on your head
A pack of forrows, which would prefs you down,
unprevented, to your timeless grave.

If

Duke. Protheus, I thank thee for thine honeft care; Which to requite, command me while I live. This love of theirs myself have often seen. Haply, when they have judg'd me fast asleep; And oftentimes have purpos'd to forbid Sir Valentine her company, and my court. But fearing left my jealous aim might err, And fo unworthily difgrace the man, (A rashness that. I ever yet have fhunn'd,) I gave him gentle looks, thereby to find That which thyfelf haft now difclos'd to me,

And

And that thou may'ft perceive my fear of this,
Knowing that tender youth is foon fuggefted,
I nightly lodge her in an upper tower,
The key whereof myfelf have ever kept:
And thence the cannot be convey'd away.

Pro. Know, Noble Lord, they have devis'd a mean
How he her chamber-window will afcend,
And with a corded ladder fetch her down;
For which the youthful lover now is gone,
And this way comes he with it presently:
Where, if it please you, you may intercept him.
But, good my Lord, do it fo cunningly,
That my difcov'ry be not aimed at;
For love of you, not hate unto my friend,
Hath made me publisher of this pretence.

Duke. Upon mine honour, he shall never know

That I had any light from thee of this.

Pro. Adieu, my Lord: Sir Valentine is coming.

SCENE II. Enter Valentine.

Duke. Sir Valentine whither away so fast?

[Exit Pro.

Val. Please it your Grace, there is a messenger
That ftays to bear my letters to my friends,
And I am going to deliver them.

Duke. Be they of much import?

Val. The tenor of them doth but fignify My health, and happy being at your court.

I

Duke. Nay then, no matter; stay with me a while; am to break with thee of fome affairs,

That touch me near; wherein thou must be secret.

'Tis not unknown to thee, that I have fought
To match my friend Sir Thurio to my daughter.
Val. I know it well, my Lord; and fure the match.
Were rich and honourable; befides, the gentleman
Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities
Befeeming fuch a wife as your fair daughter.
Cannot your grace win her to fancy him?

Duke. No, truft me; the is peevith, fullen, froward,
Proud, difobedient, ftubborn, lacking duty;
Neither regarding that fhe is my child,
Nor fearing me as if I were her father.

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And

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