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Is turn’d to folly, blasting in the bud,

Losing his verdure, even in the prime,

And all the fair effects of future hopes.

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.

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.

Pro.

All happiness bechance to thee in Milan.

Val.

As much to you at home; and so farewell.

Exit.

Pro.

He after honor hunts, I after love:

He leaves his friends, to dignify them more;

I [leave] myself, my friends, and all, for love.

Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphis’d 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.