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Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
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SCENE III. Anthonio's house. Enter Anthonio and Panthino.

Ant.
Tell me, Panthino, 6 notewhat sad talk was that,
Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister?

Pant.
'Twas of his nephew Protheus, your son.

Ant.
Why, what of him?

Pant.
He wonder'd, that your lordship
Would suffer him to spend his youth at home;
While other men, of slender reputation,
Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:
Some to the wars, to try their fortune there;
7 noteSome, to discover islands far away;
Some, to the studious universities.
For any, or for all these exercises,
He said, that Protheus, your son, was meet;
And did request me, to importune you,
To let him spend his time no more at home,
Which would be great impeachment8 note

to his age,
In having known no travel in his youth.

Ant.
Nor need'st thou much importune me to that
Whereon this month I have been hammering.

-- 137 --


I have consider'd well his loss of time;
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being try'd, and tutor'd in the world:
Experience is by industry atchiev'd,
And perfected by the swift course of time:
Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him?

Pant.
I think, your lordship is not ignorant,
How his companion, youthful Valentine,
1 note

Attends the emperor in his royal court.

Ant.
I know it well.

Pant.
'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither:
There shall he practise tilts and tournaments,
Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen;

-- 138 --


And be in eye of every exercise,
Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.

Ant.
I like thy counsel; well hast thou advis'd:
And, that thou may'st perceive how well I like it,
The execution of it shall make known;
Even with the speediest expedition
I will dispatch him to the emperor's court.

Pant.
To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso,
With other gentlemen of good esteem,
Are journeying to salute the emperor,
And to commend their service to his will.

Ant.
Good company; with them shall Protheus go:
And, 2 note


in good time,—now will we break with him. Enter Protheus.

Pro.
Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life!
Here is her hand, the agent of her heart;
Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn:
Oh! that our fathers would applaud our loves,
To seal our happiness with their consents!
Oh heavenly Julia!

Ant.
How now? what letter are you reading there?

Pro.
May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two
Of commendation sent from Valentine,
Deliver'd by a friend that came from him.

Ant.
Lend me the letter; let me see what news.

Pro.
There is no news, my lord; but that he writes
How happily he lives, how well belov'd,
And daily graced by the emperor;
Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.

Ant.
And how stand you affected to his wish?

-- 139 --

Pro.
As one relying on your lordship's will,
And not depending on his friendly wish.

Ant.
My will is something sorted with his wish:
Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed;
For what I will, I will, and there an end.
I am resolv'd, that thou shalt spend some time
With Valentino in the emperor's court;
What maintenance he from his friends receives,
Like exhibition3 note



thou shalt have from me.
To-morrow be in readiness to go:
Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.

Pro.
My lord, I cannot be so soon provided;
Please you, deliberate a day or two.

Ant.
Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent after thee:
No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.—
Come on, Panthino; you shall be employ'd
To hasten on his expedition.
[Exeunt Ant. and Pant.

Pro.
Thus have I shunn'd the fire, for fear of burning;
And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd:
I fear'd to shew my father Julia's letter,
Lest he should take exceptions to my love;
And with the vantage of mine own excuse
Hath he excepted most against my love.
4 note













Oh, how this spring of love resembleth

-- 140 --


  The uncertain glory of an April day;
Which now shews all the beauty of the sun,
  And by and by a cloud takes all away! Re-enter Panthino.

Pant.
Sir Protheus, your father calls for you;
He is in haste, therefore, I pray you, go.

Pro.
Why, this it is! my heart accords thereto;
And yet a thousand times it answers, no.
[Exeunt.

-- 141 --

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Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
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