_Val._ And on a love-book pray for my success? _Pro._ Upon some book I love I'll pray for thee. 20 _Val._ That's on some shallow story of deep love: How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont. _Pro._ That's a deep story of a deeper love; For he was more than over shoes in love. _Val._ 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love, 25 And yet you never swum the Hellespont. _Pro._ Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots. _Val._ No, I will not, for it boots thee not. _Pro._ What? _Val._ To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans; Coy looks with heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth 30 With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights: If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain; If lost, why then a grievous labour won; However, but a folly bought with wit, Or else a wit by folly vanquished. 35 _Pro._ So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. _Val._ So, by your circumstance, I fear you'll prove. _Pro._ 'Tis love you cavil at: I am not Love. _Val._ Love is your master, for he masters you: And he that is so yoked by a fool, 40 Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise. _Pro._ Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud The eating canker dwells, so eating love Inhabits in the finest wits of all. _Val._ And writers say, as the most forward bud 45 Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by love the young and tender wit Is turn'd to folly; blasting in the bud, Losing his verdure even in the prime, And all the fair effects of future hopes. 50 But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee, That art a votary to fond desire? Once more adieu! my father at the road Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd. _Pro._ And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. 55 _Val._ Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave. To Milan let me hear from thee by letters Of thy success in love, and what news else Betideth here in absence of thy friend; And I likewise will visit thee with mine. 60 _Pro._ All happiness bechance to thee in Milan! _Val._ As much to you at home! and so, farewell. [_Exit._ _Pro._ He after honour hunts, I after love: He leaves his friends to dignify them more; I leave myself, my friends, and all, for love. 65 Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphosed me, Made me neglect my studies, lose my time, War with good counsel, set the world at nought; Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought. _Enter SPEED._ _Speed._ Sir Proteus, save you! Saw you my master? 70 _Pro._ But now he parted hence, to embark for Milan. _Speed._ Twenty to one, then, he is shipp'd already, And I have play'd the sheep in losing him. _Pro._ Indeed, a sheep doth very often stray, An if the shepherd be awhile away. 75