Host. How now before? ? are you sadder than you were How do you, man? the musick likes you not. Jul. You mistake; the musician likes me not. Host. Why, my pretty youth? Jul. He plays false, father. Host. How? out of tune on the strings? Jul. Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my very heart-strings. Host. You have a quick ear. Jul. Ay, I would I were deaf! it makes me have a slow heart. Host. I perceive you delight not in musick! Host. Hark, what fine change is in the musick! Host. You would have them always play but one thing? Jul. I would always have one play but one thing. But, host, doth this sir Proteus, that we talk on, often resort unto this gentlewoman? Host. I tell you what Launce, his man, he loved her out of all nick.1 Jul. Where is Launce? told me, Host. Gone to seek his dog; which, to-morrow, by his master's command, he must carry for a present to his lady. Jul. Peace! stand aside! the company parts. Pro. Sir Thurio, fear not you! I will so plead, That you shall say, my cunning drift excels. Thu. Where meet we? Pro. At saint Gregory's well. Thu. Farewell. [Exeunt THURIO and Musicians. SILVIA appears above, at her window. Pro. Madam, good even to your ladyship. Beyond all reckoning. Sil. I thank you for your musick, gentlemen; Who is that, that spake? Pro. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth, You'd quickly learn to know him by his voice. Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. Pro. That I may compass yours. Sil. You have your wish; my will is even this,- That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows? That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit ; Jul. "Twere false, if I should speak it; For I am sure, she is not buried. [Aside. Sil. Say that she be; yet Valentine, thy friend, Survives; to whom, thyself art witness, I am betroth'd: And art thou not asham'd To wrong him with thy importúnacy? Pro. I likewise hear, that Valentine is dead. Sil. And so, suppose, am I; for in his grave Assure thyself, my love is buried. Pro. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth. Sil. Go to thy lady's grave, and call her's thence; Or, at the least, in her's sepulchre thine. Jul. He heard not that. [Aside. Pro. Madam, if your heart be so obdúrate, Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love, The picture that is hanging in your chamber; To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep: And to your shadow I will make true love. Jul. If 'twere a substance, you would, sure, deceive it, And make it but a shadow, as I am. Sil. I am very loth to be your idol, sir; [Aside. But, since your falsehood shall become you well Pro. As wretches have o'er night, That wait for execution in the morn. [Exeunt PROTEUS, and SILVIA from above. Jul. Host, will you go? Host. By my hallidom2, I was fast asleep. Host. Marry, at my house; Trust me, I think 'tis almost day. Jul. Not so; but it hath been the longest night That e'er I watch'd, and the most heaviest. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. Enter EGLAMour. Egl. This is the hour that madam Silvia Entreated me to call, and know her mind; There's some great matter she'd employ me in.Madam, madam ! Sil. SILVIA appears above, at her window. Who calls? Holy dame, blessed lady. Egl. Your servant, and your friend; One that attends your ladyship's command. Sil. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good mor row. Egl. As many, worthy lady, to yourself. Sil. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman, As full of sorrows as the sea of sands, Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances: 3 Injunction, command. + Compassionate. Recking as little what betideth me, Sil. This evening coming. At friar Patrick's cell, Egl. Where shall I meet you? Sil. Good-morrow, kind sir Eglamour. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. The same. Enter LAUNCE, with his Dog. When a man's servant shall play the cur with him, look you, it goes hard: one that I brought up of a puppy; one that I saved from drowning, when three or four of his blind brothers and sisters went to it! I have taught him even as one would say precisely, Thus I would teach a dog. I was sent to deliver him, as a present to Mrs. Silvia, from my master; and I came no sooner into the diningchamber, but he steps me to her trencher, and steals her capon's leg. O, 'tis a foul thing, when a cur cannot keep himself in all companies! I would have, as one should say, one that takes upon him to be a dog indeed, to be, as it were, a dog at all things. If I had not had more wit than he, to take a fault upon me that he did, I think verily he had been hanged for't; sure as I live, he had suffered for't. I have sat in the stocks for puddings he hath stolen, otherwise he had been executed: I have stood on the pillory for geese he hath killed, otherwise he had suffered for't: thou think'st not of this now! 5 Caring. 6 Restrain. |