Actus secundus: Scoena Prima.
Enter Valentine, Speed, Siluia
Speed. Sir, your Gloue
Valen. Not mine: my Gloues are on
Sp. Why then this may be yours: for this is but one
Val. Ha? Let me see: I, giue it me, it's mine: Sweet Ornament, that deckes a thing diuine, Ah Siluia, Siluia
Speed. Madam Siluia: Madam Siluia
Val. How now Sirha? Speed. Shee is not within hearing Sir
Val. Why sir, who bad you call her? Speed. Your worship sir, or else I mistooke
Val. Well: you'll still be too forward
Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too slow
Val. Goe to, sir, tell me: do you know Madam Siluia? Speed. Shee that your worship loues? Val. Why, how know you that I am in loue? Speed. Marry by these speciall markes: first, you haue learn'd (like Sir Protheus) to wreath your Armes like a Male-content: to rellish a Loue-song, like a Robin-redbreast: to walke alone like one that had the pestilence: to sigh, like a Schoole-boy that had lost his A.B.C. to weep like a yong wench that had buried her Grandam: to fast, like one that takes diet: to watch, like one that feares robbing: to speake puling, like a beggar at Hallow-Masse: You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cocke; when you walk'd, to walke like one of the Lions: when you fasted, it was presently after dinner: when you look'd sadly, it was for want of money: And now you are Metamorphis'd with a Mistris, that when I looke on you, I can hardly thinke you my Master
Val. Are all these things perceiu'd in me? Speed. They are all perceiu'd without ye
Val. Without me? they cannot
Speed. Without you? nay, that's certaine: for without you were so simple, none else would: but you are so without these follies, that these follies are within you, and shine through you like the water in an Vrinall: that not an eye that sees you, but is a Physician to comment on your Malady
Val. But tell me: do'st thou know my Lady Siluia? Speed. Shee that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper? Val. Hast thou obseru'd that? euen she I meane
Speed. Why sir, I know her not
Val. Do'st thou know her by my gazing on her, and yet know'st her not? Speed. Is she not hard-fauour'd, sir? Val. Not so faire (boy) as well fauour'd
Speed. Sir, I know that well enough
Val. What dost thou know? Speed. That shee is not so faire, as (of you) well-fauourd? Val. I meane that her beauty is exquisite, But her fauour infinite