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VAL. Madam and mistress, a thousand good

morrows.

SPEED. O, 'give you good even! here's a million of manners.

[Afide. SIL. Sir Valentine and fervant, to you two thousand.

SPEED. He fhould give her intereft; and she gives it him.

VAL. As you enjoin'd me, I have writ your letter, Unto the fecret nameless friend of yours; Which I was much unwilling to proceed in, But for my duty to your ladyship.

SIL. I thank you, gentle fervant: 'tis very clerkly done."

VAL. Now truft 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 pains?

VAL. No, madam; so it stead you, I will write,

8 Sir Valentine and fervant,] Here Silvia calls her lover fervant, and again below her gentle fervant. This was the language of ladies to their lovers at the time when Shakspeare wrote.

So, in Marston's What you will, 1607:

SIR J. HAWKINS,

"Sweet fifter, let's fit in judgement a little; faith upon my fervant Monfieur Laverdure.

"Mel. Troth, well for a fervant; but for a husband!" Again, in Ben Jonfon's Every Man out of his Humour:

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Every man was not born with my fervant Brifk's features."
STEEVENS.

-'tis very clerkly done.] i. e. like a fcholar. So, in The Merry Wives of Windfor:

"Thou art clerkly, fir John, clerkly." STEEVENS.

it came hardly off;] A fimilar phrafe occurs in Timon

of Athens, A&t I. fc. i:

"This comes off well and excellent." STEEVENS.

Please you command, a thousand times as much: And yet,

SIL. A pretty period! Well, I guess the fequel; 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.

SPEED. And yet you will; and yet another yet.

[Afide.

VAL. What means your ladyship? do you not like it?

SIL. Yes, yes; the lines are very quaintly writ: But fince unwillingly, take them again; Nay, take them.

VAL. Madam, they are for you.

SIL. Ay, ay; you writ them, fir, 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 ladyfhip another. SIL. And, when it's writ, for my fake read it

over:

And, if it please you, so; if not, why, fo.
VAL. If it please me, madam! what then?
SIL. Why, if it please you, take it for your la-
bour;

And fo good-morrow, fervant.

[Exit SILVIA. SPEED. O jeft unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a

steeple!

My mafter fues to her; and fhe hath taught her fuitor, He being her pupil, to become her tutor.

O excellent device! was there ever heard a better? That my mafter, being scribe, to himself should write the letter?

VAL. How now, fir? what are you reasoning with yourself? ❜

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SPEED. Nay, I was rhiming; 'tis you that have the reason.

VAL. To do what?

SPEED. To be a spokesman from madam Silvia. VAL. To whom?

SPEED. To yourself: why,fhe wooes you by a figure. VAL. What figure?

SPEED. By a letter, I fhould fay.

VAL. Why, the hath not writ to me?

SPEED. What need fhe, when fhe made you write to yourself? Why, do you not perceive the jest?

VAL. No, believe me.

SPEED. No believing you indeed, fir: But did you perceive her earneft?

VAL. She gave me none, except an angry word. SPEED. Why, fhe hath given you a letter.

VAL. That's the letter I writ to her friend. SPEED. And that letter hath fhe deliver'd, and there an end."

VAL. I would, it were no worse.

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

For often you have writ to her;

and she, in modefty, Or elfe for want of idle time, could not again reply;

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reafoning with yourself?] That is, difcourfing, talking. An Italianifm. JOHNSON.

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-and there an end.] i. e. there's the conclufion of the matter. So, in Macbeth:

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"That when the brains were out, the man would die,
"And there an end.”.
STEEVENS.

Or fearing else fome messenger, that might her mind

difcover,

Herself bath taught her love himself to write unto her

lover.

All this I speak in print; for in print I found it.— Why mufe you, fir? 'tis dinner-time.

VAL. I have din'd.

SPEED. Ay, but hearken, fir: though the cameleon 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 [Exeunt. moved.

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Verona. A Room in Julia's Houfe.

Enter PROTEUS and JULIA.

PRO. Have patience, gentle Julia.
JUL. I muft, where is no remedy.

PRO. When poffibly I can, I will return.

JUL. If you turn not, you will return the fooner: Keep this remembrance for thy Julia's fake.

[Giving a ring.

PRO. Why then we'll make exchange; here,
take you this.

JUL. And feal the bargain with a holy kifs.
PRO. Here is my hand for my true conftancy;

All this I fpeak in print;] In print means with exactness. So, in the comedy of All Fooles, 1605:

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not a hair

"About his bulk, but it ftands in print.”

Again, in The Portraiture of Hypocrifie, bl. 1. 1589: "-others Jash out to maintaine their porte, which muft needes bee in print.”

STEEVENS,

And when that hour o'er-flips me in the day,
Wherein I figh not, Julia, for thy fake,
The next enfuing hour fome foul mifchance
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 ftay me longer than I should:
[Exit JULIA.
Julia, farewell.-What! gone without a word?
Ay, fo true love should do: it cannot speak;
For truth hath better deeds, than words, to grace it.

Enter PANTHINO.

PAN. Sir Proteus, you are ftaid for.
PRO. GO; I come, I come :-

Alas! this parting ftrikes poor lovers dumb.

SCENE III.

The fame. Aftreet.

Enter LAUNCE, leading a dog.

[Exeunt.

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 fon, and am going with fir Proteus to the Imperial's court. I think, Crab my dog be the foureft-natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my fifter crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our houfe in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur fhed 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 feen

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