The
scene of Launce with his dog (not that in the second, but that in
the fourth act) is a perfect treat in the way of farcical drollery
and invention; nor do we think Speed's manner of proving his master
to be in love deficient in wit or sense, though the style may be
criticized as not simple enough for the modern taste.
Valentine. Why, how know you that I am in love?
Speed. Marry, by these special marks; first, you have learned, like
Sir Protheus, to wreathe your arms like a malcontent, to relish a
love-song like a robin-red-breast, to walk alone like one that had
the pestilence, to sigh like a schoolboy that had lost his A B C, to
weep like a young wench that had buried her grandam, to fast like
one that takes diet, to watch like one that fears robbing, to speak
puling like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laughed,
to crow like a cock; when you walked, to walk; like one of the
lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you
looked sadly, it was for want of money; and now you are
metamorphosed with a mistress, that when I look on you, I can hardly
think you my master.
The tender scenes in this play, though not so highly wrought as in
some others, have often much sweetness of sentiment and expression.
There is something pretty and playful in the conversation of Julia
with her maid, when she shows such a disposition to coquetry about
receiving the letter from Proteus; and her behaviour afterwards and
her disappointment, when she finds him faithless to his vows, remind
us at a distance of Imogen's tender constancy.
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