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PROTEUS. Over the boots! Nay, give me not the boots. |
VALENTINE. No, I will not, for it boots thee not. |
PROTEUS. What? |
VALENTINE. 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. |
PROTEUS. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. |
VALENTINE. So, by your circumstance, I fear you'll prove. |
PROTEUS. 'Tis love you cavil at; I am not Love. |
VALENTINE. Love is your master, for he masters you; |
And he that is so yoked by a fool, |
Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise. |
PROTEUS. Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud |
The eating canker dwells, so eating love |
Inhabits in the finest wits of all. |
VALENTINE. 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 the |
That art a votary to fond desire? |
Once more adieu. My father at the road |
Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd. |
PROTEUS. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. |
VALENTINE. Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave. |
To 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. |
PROTEUS. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan! |
VALENTINE. As much to you at home; and so farewell! |
Exit VALENTINE |
PROTEUS. He after honour 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 metamorphis'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. |
Enter SPEED |
SPEED. Sir Proteus, save you! Saw you my master? |
PROTEUS. But now he parted hence to embark for Milan. |
SPEED. Twenty to one then he is shipp'd already, |
And I have play'd the sheep in losing him. |
PROTEUS. Indeed a sheep doth very often stray, |
An if the shepherd be awhile away. |
SPEED. You conclude that my master is a shepherd then, and |
I a sheep? |
PROTEUS. I do. |
SPEED. Why then, my horns are his horns, whether I wake or sleep. |
PROTEUS. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep. |
SPEED. This proves me still a sheep. |
PROTEUS. True; and thy master a shepherd. |
SPEED. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance. |
PROTEUS. 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. |
PROTEUS. 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.' |
PROTEUS. But dost thou hear? Gav'st thou my letter to Julia? |
SPEED. Ay, sir; I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, a lac'd |
mutton; and she, a lac'd mutton, gave me, a lost mutton, nothing |
for my labour. |
PROTEUS. Here's too small a pasture for such store of muttons. |
SPEED. If the ground be overcharg'd, you were best stick her. |
PROTEUS. Nay, in that you are astray: 'twere best pound you. |
SPEED. Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your |
letter. |
PROTEUS. You mistake; I mean the pound- a pinfold. |
SPEED. From a pound to a pin? Fold it over and over, |
'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover. |
PROTEUS. But what said she? |
SPEED. [Nodding] Ay. |
PROTEUS. Nod- ay. Why, that's 'noddy.' |
SPEED. You mistook, sir; I say she did nod; and you ask me if she |
did nod; and I say 'Ay.' |
PROTEUS. And that set together is 'noddy.' |
SPEED. Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for |
your pains. |
PROTEUS. No, no; you shall have it for bearing the letter. |
SPEED. Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you. |
PROTEUS. Why, sir, how do you bear with me? |
SPEED. Marry, sir, the letter, very orderly; having nothing but the |
word 'noddy' for my pains. |
PROTEUS. Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit. |
SPEED. And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse. |
PROTEUS. Come, come, open the matter; in brief, what said she? |
SPEED. Open your purse, that the money and the matter may be both |
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