out of all count.

_Val._ How painted? and how out of count?

_Speed._ Marry, sir, so painted, to make her fair, that no
man counts of her beauty.

_Val._ How esteemest thou me? I account of her beauty. 55

_Speed._ You never saw her since she was deformed.

_Val._ How long hath she been deformed?

_Speed._ Ever since you loved her.

_Val._ I have loved her ever since I saw her; and still I
see her beautiful. 60

_Speed._ If you love her, you cannot see her.

_Val._ Why?

_Speed._ Because Love is blind. O, that you had mine
eyes; or your own eyes had the lights they were wont to
have when you chid at Sir Proteus for going ungartered! 65

_Val._ What should I see then?

_Speed._ Your own present folly, and her passing deformity:
for he, being in love, could not see to garter his
hose; and you, being in love, cannot see to put on your hose.

_Val._ Belike, boy, then, you are in love; for last morning 70
you could not see to wipe my shoes.

_Speed._ True, sir; I was in love with my bed: I thank
you, you swinged me for my love, which makes me the
bolder to chide you for yours.

_Val._ In conclusion, I stand affected to her. 75

_Speed._ I would you were set, so your affection would
cease.

_Val._ Last night she enjoined me to write some lines
to one she loves.

_Speed._ And have you? 80

_Val._ I have.

_Speed._ Are they not lamely writ?

_Val._ No, boy, but as well as I can do them. Peace!
here she comes.

_Speed._ [_Aside_] O excellent motion! O exceeding puppet! 85
Now will he interpret to her.

_Enter SILVIA._

_Val._ Madam and mistress, a thousand good-morrows.

_Speed._ [_Aside_] O, give ye good even! here's a million
of manners.

_Sil._ Sir Valentine and servant, to you two thousand. 90

_Speed._ [_Aside_] He should give her interest, and she
gives it him.

_Val._ As you enjoin'd me, I have writ your letter
Unto the secret nameless friend of yours;
Which I was much unwilling to proceed in, 95
But for my duty to your ladyship.

_Sil._ I thank you, gentle servant: 'tis very clerkly done.

_Val._ Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off;
For, being ignorant to whom it goes,
I writ at random, very doubtfully. 100

_Sil._ Perchance you think too much