Pro. So, by your circumftance, you call me fool.
Val. So, by your circumftance, I fear, you'll prove.
Pro. 'Tis love you cavil at; I am not love.
Val. Love is your mafter; for he masters you.
And he that is fo yoaked by a fool,

Methinks, fhould not be chronicled for wife.
Pro. Yet writers fay, as in the fweetest bud
The eating canker dwells; fo eating love
Inhabits in the fineft wits of all.

Val. And writers fay, as the moft forward bud
Is eaten by the canker, ere it blow;
Even fo by love the young and tender wit
Is turn'd to folly, blafting in the bud;
Lofing his verdure even in the prime,
And all the fair effects of future hopes.
But wherefore wafte I time to counfel thee,
That art a votary to fond defire?

Once more, adieu : my

father at the road Expects my coming, there to fee me fhipp'd.

Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. Val. Sweet Protheus, no: now let us take our leave. At Milan, fet me hear from thee by letters Of thy fuccefs in love; and what news elfe Betideth here in abfence of thy friend:

And I likewife will vifit thee with mine.

Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan!
Val. As much to you at home; and fo, farewel!

[Exit.

Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love; He leaves his friends to dignify them more; I leave myfelf, my friends, and all for love. Thou, Julia, thou haft metamorphos'd me; Made me neglect my studies, lofe my time, War with good counfel, fet the world at nought; Made wit with mufing weak, (5) heart fick with thought.

SCENE

(5) Made wit with mufing weak,] For made read make. Thou, Julia, haft made me war with good counsel, and make wit weak with mufing.

SCENE II. (6)

Enter Speed.

Speed. Sir Protheus, fave you; faw you my mafter? Pro. But now he parted hence, t'imbark for Milan. Speed. Twenty to one then he is fhipp'd already, And I have play'd the fheep in lofing him.

Pro. Indeed, a fheep doth very often stray, An' if the shepherd be a while away.

Speed. You conclude that my mafter is a fhepherd then, and I a Pro. I doeep?

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

Pro. A filly anfwer, and fitting well a fheep.
Speed. This proves me ftill a fheep.

Pro. True; and thy mafter a fhepherd. Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumftance. Pro. It fhall go hard, but I'll prove it by another. Speed. The thepherd feeks the fheep, and not the fheep the fhepherd; but I feek my mafter, and my mafter feeks not me; therefore I am no fheep.

Pro. The fheep for fodder follows the fhepherd, the fhepherd for the food follows not the fheep; thou for wages followeft thy mafter, thy mafter for wages follows not thee, therefore thou art a fheep.

Speed. Such another proof will make me cry Baâ.

(6) This whole fcene, like many others in thefe plays (fome of which I believe were written by Shakespeare, and others interpolated by the players) is compofed of the lowest and most trifling conceits, to be accounted for only from the grofs tafte of the age he lived in; Populo ut placerent. I wish I had authority to leave them out; but I have done all I could, fet a mark of reprobation upon them, throughout this edition. POPE.

That this, like many other fcenes, is mean and vulgar, will be univerfally allowed; but that it was interpolated by the players, feems advanced without any proof, only to give a greater licence to criticism.

Pro.

Pro. But doft thou hear? gaveft thou my letter to Julia?

Speed. Ay, Sir, 1, a loft mutton, gave your letter to her, a lac'd mutton, (7) and fhe, a lac'd mutton, gave me, a loft mutton, nothing for my labour.

Pro. Here's too fmall a pafture for fuch a tore of

muttons.

Speed. If the ground be over-charg'd, you were beft ftick her.

Pro. Nay, in that you are a ftray, (8) 'twere bef pound you.

Speed. Nay, Sir, lefs than a pound shall ferve me for carrying your letter.

Pro. You mistake: I mean the pound, a pin-fold. Speed. From a pound to a pin? fold it over and

over,

'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover.

Pro. But what faid fhe? did the nod? [Speed nods. Speed. I.

Pro. Nod-I? why, that's noddy.

Speed. You miftook, Sir: I faid she did nod: And you afk me, if fhe did nod; and I faid, I. Pro. And that fet together, is noddy.

Speed. Now you have taken the pains to fet it together, take it for your pains.

(7) I, a loft Mutton, gave your letter to her, a lac'd Mutton,] Speed calls himself a loft Mutton, because he had loft his Master, and because Protheus had been proving him a Sheep. But why does he call the lady a lac'd Mutton? Wenchers are to this Day called Mutton-mongers: and confequently the object of their paffion mult, by the metaphor, be the Mutton. And Cotgrave in his Englifb-French Dictionary, explains lac'd Mutton, Une Garfe, pulain, fille de Joye. And Mr. Motteux has rendered this paffage of Rabelais, in the prologue of his fourth book, Cailles coipbees mignonnement chantans, in this manner; Coated Quails and laced Mutton waggibly finging. So that lac'd Mutton has been a fort of standard phrafe for Girls of Pleasure.

THEOBALD.

(8) Nay, in that you are aftray,] For the reafon Protheus gives, Dr. Thirlby advifes that we should read, a Stray, i. e. a tray sheep; which continues Protheus's banter upon Speed.

THEOBALD,

Pro.

Pro. No, no, you shall have it for bearing the let

ter.

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. Befhrew me, but you have a quick wit. Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your flow purfe. Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief: what faid the ?

Speed. Open your purfe, that the money and the matter may be both at once deliver’d.

Pro. Well, Sir, here is for your pains; what faid the ?

Speed. Truly, Sir, I think you'll hardly win her. Pro. Why? could't thou perceive fo much from her?

Speed. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from

her;

No, not so much as a ducket for delivering your letter.
And being fo 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 ftones; for the's as hard as

fteel.

Pro. What, faid the nothing?
Speed. No, not so much as-
pains.

take this for thy

To teftify your bounty, I thank you, you have teftern'd me: (9)

In requital whereof, henceforth carry your letter yourfelf: and fo, Sir, I'll commend you to my mafter.

Pro. Go, go be gone, to fave your ship from

wreck,

Which cannot perish, having thee aboard,
Being deftin'd to a drier death on shore.

I must go fend fome better meffenger:

(و).

-you have teftern'd me:] You have gratified me with a tefter, teften, or toften, that is, with a fixpence.

I fear,

I fear, my Julia would not deign my lines,
Receiving them from fuch a worthless poft.

Jul. B

UT fay, Lucetta, now we are alone, Would't thou then counfel me to fall in love? Luc. Ay, madam, fo you ftumble not unheedfully. Ful. Of all the fair refort of gentlemen, That ev'ry day with parle encounter me, In thy opinion which is worthieft love? Luc. Please you, repeat their names; mind,

According to my fhallow fimple fkill.

I'll fhew my

Jul. What think'ft 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 himfelf, fo, fo.
Jul. What think'ft thou of the gentle Protheus?
Luc. Lord, lord! to fee what folly reigns in us!
Jul. How now? what means this paffion at his

name?

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

Should cenfure thus on lovely gentlemen.
Jul. Why not on Protheus, as on all the reft?
Luc. Then thus; of many good, I think him beft.

Jul. Your reafon?

Luc. I have no other but a woman's reafon

I think him fo, because I think him fo.

Ful. And would'ft thou have me cast my love on

him?

Luc.