but that’s all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now that knows me to be in love; yet I am in love; but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me; nor who ’tis I love; and yet ’tis a woman; but what woman, I will not tell myself; and yet ’tis a milkmaid; yet ’tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips; yet ’tis a maid, for she is her master’s maid, and serves for wages. She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel; which is much in a bare Christian.
Pulling out a paper. Here is the cate-log of her condition. “Imprimis: She can fetch and carry.” Why, a horse can do no more: nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore is she better than a jade. “Item: She can milk;” look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands.
Enter
Speed.
Speed
How now, Signior Launce! what news with your mastership?
Launce
With my master’s ship? why, it is at sea.
Speed
Well, your old vice still; mistake the word. What news, then, in your paper?
Launce
The blackest news that ever thou heardest.
Speed
Why, man, how black?
Launce
Why, as black as ink.
Speed
Let me read them.
Launce
Fie on thee, jolt-head! thou canst not read.
Speed
Thou liest; I can.
Launce
I will try thee. Tell me this: who begot thee?
Speed
Marry, the son of my grandfather.
Launce
O illiterate loiterer! it was the son of thy grandmother: this proves that thou canst not read.
Speed
Come, fool, come; try me in thy paper.
Launce
There; and Saint Nicholas be thy speed!
Speed
Reads. “Imprimis: She can milk.”
Launce
Ay, that she can.
Speed
“Item: She brews good ale.”
Launce
And thereof comes the proverb: “Blessing of your heart, you brew good ale.”
Speed
“Item: She can sew.”
Launce
That’s as much as to say, Can she so?
Speed
“Item: She can knit.”
Launce
What need a man care for a stock with a wench, when she can knit him a stock?
Speed
“Item: She can wash and scour.”
Launce
A special virtue; for then she need not be washed and scoured.
Speed
“Item: She can spin.”
Launce
Then may I set the world on wheels, when she can spin for her living.
Speed
“Item: She hath many nameless virtues.”
Launce
That’s as much as to say, bastard virtues; that, indeed, know not their fathers and therefore have no names.
Speed
“Here follow her vices.”
Launce
Close at the heels of her virtues.
Speed
“Item: She is not to be kissed fasting, in respect of her breath.”
Launce
Well, that fault may be mended with a breakfast. Read on.
Speed
“Item: She hath a sweet mouth.”
Launce
That makes amends for her sour breath.
Speed
“Item: She doth talk in her sleep.”
Launce
It’s no matter for that, so she sleep not in her talk.
Speed
“Item: She is slow in words.”
Launce
O villain, that set this down among her vices! To be slow in words is a woman’s only virtue: I pray thee, out with’t, and place it for her chief virtue.
Speed
“Item: She is proud.”
Launce
Out with that too; it was Eve’s legacy, and cannot be ta’en from her.
Speed
“Item: She hath no teeth.”
Launce
I care not for that neither, because I love crusts.
Speed
“Item: She is curst.”
Launce
Well, the best is, she hath no teeth to bite.
Speed
“Item: She will often praise her liquor.”
Launce
If her liquor be good, she shall: if she will not, I will; for good things should be praised.
Speed
“Item: She is too liberal.”
Launce
Of her tongue she cannot, for that’s writ down she is slow of; of her purse she shall not, for that I’ll keep shut: now, of another thing she may, and that cannot I help. Well, proceed.
Speed
“Item: She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults.”
Launce
Stop there; I’ll have her: she was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that last article. Rehearse that once more.
Speed
“Item: She hath more hair than wit,”—
Launce
More hair than wit? It may be; I’ll prove it. The cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it is more than the salt; the hair that covers the wit is more than the wit, for the greater hides the less. What’s next?
Speed
“And more faults than hairs,”—
Launce
That’s monstrous: O, that that were out!
Speed
“And more wealth than faults.”
Launce
Why, that word makes the faults gracious. Well, I’ll have her: and if it be a match, as nothing is impossible—
Speed
What then?
Launce
Why, then will I tell thee—that thy master stays for thee at the North-gate.
Speed
For me?
Launce
For thee! ay, who art thou? he hath stayed for a better man than thee.
Speed
And must I go to him?
Launce
Thou must run to him, for thou hast stayed so long that going will scarce serve the turn.
Speed
Why didst not tell me sooner? pox of your love letters!
Exit.
Launce
Now will he be swinged for reading my letter; an unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into secrets! I’ll after, to rejoice in the boy’s correction.
Exit.
Scene II
The same. The Duke’s palace.
Enter
Duke and
Thurio.
Duke
Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love you,
Now Valentine is banish’d from her sight.
Thurio
Since his exile she hath despised me most,
Forsworn my company and rail’d at me,
That I am desperate of obtaining her.
Duke
This weak impress of love is as a figure
Trenched in ice, which with an hour’s heat
Dissolves to water and doth lose his form.
A little time will melt her frozen thoughts
And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.
Enter
Proteus.
How now, Sir Proteus! Is your countryman
According to our proclamation gone?
Proteus
Gone, my good lord.
Duke
My daughter takes his going grievously.
Proteus
A little time, my lord, will kill that grief.
Duke
So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so.
Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee—
For thou hast shown some sign of good desert—
Makes me the better to confer with thee.
Proteus
Longer than I prove loyal to
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