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cious: well, I'll have her: and if it be a match, as By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
nothing is impossible,-
She shall not long continue love to him.
But say, this weed her love from Valentine,

Speed. What then?

Laun. Why, then I will tell thee,-that thy It follows not that she will love sir Thurio. master stays for thee at the north gate. Speed. For me?

Thu. Therefore, as you unwind her love from him,

Laun. For thee? ay; wno art thou? he hath Lest it should ravel, and be good to none,

staid for a better man than thee.

Speed. And must I go to him?

Laun. Thou must run to him, for thou hast staid so long, that going will scarce serve the turn. Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner? 'pox of your love-letters!

You must provide to bottom it on me:
Which must be done, by praising me as much
As you in worth dispraise sir Valentine.
Duke. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this
kind;

Exit. Because we know, on Valentine's report, Laua. Now will he be swinged for reading any You are already love's firm votary, letter: an unmannerly slave, that will thrust him-And cannot soon revolt and change your mind, self into secrets!-I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's Upon this warrant shall you have access, correction. [Exil. Where you with Silvia may confer at large; For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy, Where you may temper her, by your persuasion, And, for your friend's sake, will be glad of you; To hate young Valentine, and love my friend. Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect:But you, sir Thurio, are not sharp enough;

SCENE II.-The same. A room in the Duke's palace. Enter Duke and Thurio; Proteus be

hind.

Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not, but that she will love You must lay lime, to tangle her desires,

you,

Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight.

Thu. Since his exile she hath despis'd me most,
Forsworn my company, and rail'd at me,
That I am desperate of obtaining her.

Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure
Trench'd' in ice; which with an hour's heat
Dissolves to water, and doth lose his form.
A little time will melt her frozen thoughts,
And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.-
How now, sir Proteus? Is your countryman,
According to our proclamation, gone?
Pro. Gone, my good lord.

By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes
Should be full fraught with serviceable vows.

Duke. Ay, much the force of heaven-bred poesy.
Pro. Say, that upon the altar of her beauty
You sacrilice your tears, your sighs, your heart:
Write till your ink be dry; and with your tears
Moist it again; and frame some feeling line,
That may discover such integrity:-

For Orphens' lute was strung with poet's sinews;
Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,
Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans
Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.
After your dire-lamenting elegies,

Visit by night your lady's chamber-window
With some sweet concert: to their instruments
so.-Tune a deploring dump; the night's dead silence
Will well become such sweet complaining griev

Dake. My daughter takes his going grievously.
Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief.
Dake. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not
Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee
(For thou hast shown some sign of good desert,)
Makes me the better to confer with thee.

Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your grace,
Let me not live to look upon your grace.

Duke. Thou know'st, how willingly I would effect The match between sir Thurio and my daughter. Pro. I do, my lord.

Duke. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant
How she opposes her against my will.

Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here.
Duke. Ay, and perversely she perseveres so.
What might we do, to make the girl forget
The love of Valentine, and love sir Thurio?

Pro. The best way is to slander Valentine
With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent;
Three things that women highly hold in hate.
Duke. Ay, but she'll think, that it is spoke in
hate.

Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it:
Therefore it must, with circumstance, be spoken
By one, whom she esteemeth as his friend.

Dike. Then you must undertake to slander him.
Pro. And that, my lord, I shall be loth to do.
Tis an ill office for a gentleman;
Especially, against his very friend.

Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage
him,

Your slander never can endamage him;
Therefore the cffice is indifferent,

Being entreated to it by your friend.

Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord: if I can do it,
(1) Graceful,
(3) Bird-lime.

(2) Cut.

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Out. That's not so, sir; we are your enemies. 2 Out. Peace; we'll hear him.

3 Out. Ay, by my beard, will we;

For he's a proper' man.

Love thee as our commander, and our king.
1 Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest,
2 Out. Thou shalt not live to brag what werồ
offer'd.

Val. I take your offer, and will live with you;
Provided that you do no outrages

On silly women, or poor passengers.

3 Out. No, we detest such vile base practices.

Val. Then know, that I have little wealth to lose; Come, go with us, we'll bring thee to our crews,

A man I am, cross'd with adversity:

My riches are these poor habiliments,

Of which if you should here disfurnish me,

You take the sum and substance that I have. 2 Out. Whither travel you?

Val. To Verona.

1 Out. Whence came you?

Val. From Milan.

3 Out. Have you long sojourn'd there?

And show thee all the treasure we have got;
Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Milan. Court of the palace. En ter Proteus.

Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine, And now I must be as unjust to Thurio.

Val. Some sixteen months; and longer might Under the colour of commending him,

have staid,

If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.
1 Out. What, were you banish'd thence?
Val. I was.

2 Out. For what offence?

Val. For that which now torments me to rehearse:
I kiil'd a man, whose death I much repent;
But yet I slew him manfully in fight,
Without false vantage, or base treachery.

1 Oul. Why ne'er repent it, if it were done so: But were you banish'd for so small a fault?

Val. I was, and held me glad of such a doom. 1 Out. Have you the tongues?2

I have access my own love to prefer;
But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy,
To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.
When I protest true loyalty to her,
She twits me with my falsehood to my friend;
When to her beauty I commend my vows,
She bids me think, how I have been forsworn
In breaking faith with Julia whom I iov'd:
And, notwithstanding all her sudden quips,
The least whereof would queil a lover's hope,
Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love,
The more it grows and fawneth on her still.
But here comes Thurio: now must we to her win-
dow,

Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy; And give some evening music to her car.

Or else I often had been miserable.

3 Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat

friar,

This fellow were a king for our wild faction.

1 Out. We'll have him: sirs, a word.

Speed. Master, be one of them;

It is an honourable kind of thievery.

Val. Peace, villain!

Out. Tell us this: have you any thing to take to?

Val. Nothing, but my fortune.

3 Out. Know then, that some of us are gentle

men,

Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth

Thrust from the company of awful' men:
Myself was from Verona banished,
For practising to steal away a lady,
An heir, and near allied unto the duke.

2 Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman,
Whom, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart.
1 Out. And I, for such like petty crimes as

these.

But to the purpose-(for we cite our faults,
That they may hold excus'd our lawless lives,)
And, partly, seeing you are beautified

With goodly shape; and by your own report
A linguist; and a man of such perfection,
As we do in our quality much want;-

2 Out. Indeed, because you are a banish'd man,
Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you:
Are you content to be our general?

To make a virtue of necessity,

And live, as we do, in this wilderness?

Out. What say'st thou? wilt thou be of our

consort?

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Enter Thurio, and musicians.

5

Thu. How now, sir Proteus ? are you crept

before us

Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio; for, you know, that

love

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Who is Silvia? What is she,

That all our swains commend her?
Holy, fair, and wise is she;

The heavens such grace did lend her,
That she might admired be.

(5) Passionate reproaches.

Is she kind, as she is fair?
For beauty lives with kindness:
Love doth to her eyes repair,

To help him of his blindness;
And, being help'd, inhabits there.

Then to Silvia let us sing,
That Silvia is excelling;
She excels each mortal thing,
Upon the dull earth dwelling.
To her let us garlands bring.

Host. How now? are you sadder than you were
before?

How do you, man? the music 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?

And by and by intend to chide myself,
Even for this time I spend in talking to thee.
Pro. I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady;
But she is dead.

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,

Jul. Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my The picture that is hanging in your chamber;

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 music.
Jul. Not a whit, when it jars so.
Host. Hark, what fine change is in the music!
Jud. Ay; that change is the spite.
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, told me, he loved her out of all nick.'

Jul. Where is Launce?

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. Sil. I thank you for your music, 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.
Sil. Sir Proteus, as I take it.

Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant.
Sil. What is your will?

Pro.

That I may compass yours.
Sil. You have your wish; my will is even this,
That presently you hie you home to bed.
Thou subtle, perjur'd, false, disloyal man!
Think'st thou, I am so shallow, so conceitless,
To be seduc'd by thy flattery,

That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows?
Return, return, and make thy love amends.
For me,-by this pale queen of night I swear,
I am so far from granting thy request,
That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit;

(1) Beyond all reckoning.
(2) Holy dame, blessed lady.

To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep;
For, since the substance of your perfect self
Is else devoted, I am but a shadow;

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.

[Aside.

Sil. I am very loth to be your idol, sir;
But, since your falsehood shall become you well
To worship shadows, and adore false shapes,
Send to me in the morning, and I'll send it:
And so good rest.

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?

2

Host. By my halidom, I was fast asleep.
Jul. Pray you, where lies sir Proteus ?
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.

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row.

Egl. As many, worthy lady, to yourself.
According to your ladyship's impose,'
I am thus early come, to know what service
It is your pleasure to command me in.

Sil. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman
(Think not, I flatter, for, I swear, I do not,)
Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplish'd.
Thou art not ignorant, what dear good will
I bear unto the banish'd Valentine;
Nor how my father would enforce me marry
Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhorr'd."
Thyself hast lov'd; and I have heard thee say,
No grief did ever come so near your heart,
As when thy lady and thy true love died,

(3) Injunction, command.

(4) Pitiful.

Upon whose grave thou vow'dst pure chastity.
Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine,
To Mantua, where, I hear, he makes abode;
And, for the ways are dangerous to pass,
1 do desire thy worthy company,
Upon whose faith and honour I repose.
Urge not my father's anger, Eglamour,
But think upon my grief, a lady's grief;
And on the justice of my flying hence,
To keep me from a most unholy match,

Which heaven and fortune still reward with
plagues.

I do desire thee, even from a heart

As full of sorrows as the sea of sands,

To bear me company, and go with me:
If not, to hide what I have said to thee,
That I may venture to depart alone.

Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances;
Which since I know they virtuously are plac'd,
give consent to go along with you;
Recking as little what betideth me,
As much I wish all good befortune you.
When will you go?

Sil.

This evening coming.

At friar Patrick's cell,

Egl. Where shall I meet you?
sa.
Where I intend holy confession.
Egl. I will not fail your ladyship:
Good-morrow, gentle lady.

Sil. Good-morrow, kind sir Eglamour.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-The same. Enter Launce, with his dog.

served me, when I took my leave of madam Silvia did not I bid thee still mark me, and do as I do When didst thou see me heave up my leg, and make water against a gentlewoman's farthingale? didst thou ever see me do such a trick?

Enter Proteus and Julia.

Pro. Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well, And will employ thee in some service presently. Jul. In what you please;-I will do what I can. Pro. I hope, thou wilt.-How now, you whoreson peasant? ¡To Launce. Where have you been these two days loitering? Laun. Marry, sir, I carried mistress Silvia the dog you bade me.

Pro. And what says she, to my little jewel? Laun. Marry, she says, your dog was a eur; and tells you, currish thanks is good enough for such a present.

Pro. But she received my dog?

Laun. No, indeed, she did not: here have I brought him back again.

Pro. What, didst thou offer her this from me? Laun. Ay, sir; the other squirrel was stolen from me by the hangman's boys in the marketplace: and then I offer'd her mine own; who is a dog as big as ten of yours, and therefore the gift the greater.

Pro. Go, get thee hence, and find my dog again, Or ne'er return again unto my sight. Away, I say: Stay'st thou to vex me here? A slave, that, still an end, turns me to shame. [Exit Launce. Sebastian, I have entertained thee, When a man's servant shall play the cur with Partly, that I have need of such a youth, him, look you, it goes hard: one that I brought up For 'tis no trusting to yon foolish lowt: That can with some discretion do my business, of a puppy; one that I saved from drowning, when But chiefly, for thy face, and thy behaviour; three or four of his blind brothers and sisters went Which (if my augury deceive me not) to it! I have taught him-even as one would say Witness good bringing up, fortune, and truth: precisely, Thus I would teach a dog. I was sent Therefore know thou, for this I entertain thee. to deliver him, as a present to mistress Silvia, from Go presently, and take this ring with thee, my master; and I came no sooner into the dining- Deliver it to madam Silvia: chamber, but he steps me to her treacher, and She loved me well, delivered it to me. steals her capon's leg. O'tis a foul thing, when

Jul. It seems you loved her not, to leave her

Pro.

token:

Jul. Alas!

Not so; I think, she lives.

Pro. Why dost thy cry, alas!
Jul. I cannot choose but pity her.
Pro. Wherefore should'st thou pity her?
Jul. Because, methinks, that she loved you as
As you do love your lady Silvia :
well
She dreams on him, that has forgot her love;
You dote on her, that cares not for your love.
Tis pity, love should be so contrary;
And thinking on it makes me cry, alas!

a cur cannot keep himself in all companies! I would have, as one should say, one that takes upon She's dead, belike. 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 hel had been hanged for't; sure as I live, he had suffered for't: you shall judge. He thrusts me himself into the company of three or four gentlemenlike dogs, under the duke's table: he had not been there (bless the mark) a pissing while; but all the chamber smelt him. Out with the dog, says one; What cur is that? says another; Whip him out, says the third; Hang him up, says the duke. having been acquainted with the smell before, knew it was Crab; and goes me to the fellow that whips the dogs: Friend, quoth I, you mean to whip the dog? Ay, marry, do I, quoth he. do him the more wrong, quoth I; 'twas I did the thing you wot of. He makes me no more ado, but whips me out of the chamber. How many masters would do this for their servant? Nay, I' be sworn, I have sat in the stocks for puddings he hath stolen, otherwise he had been executed: have stood on the pillory for geese he hath killed. otherwise he had suffered for't: thou think'st not of this now!-Nay, I remember the trick you

You

(1) Caring. (2) Restrain. (3) In the end.

This letter;-that's her chamber.-Tell my lady,
Pro. Well, give her that ring, and therewithal
Your message done, hie home unto my chamber,
claim the promise for her heavenly picture.
Where thou shalt find me sad and solitary.

I

[Exit Proteus. Jul. How many women would do such a message?

Alas, poor Proteus! thou hast entertain'd
A fox, to be the shepherd of thy lambs:
Alas, poor fool! Why do I pity him
That with his very heart despiseth me?
Because he loves her, he despiseth me;
Because I love him, I must pity him.

This ring I gave him, when he parted from me,
To bind him to remember my good will:
And now am I (unhappy messenger)

To plead for that, which I would not obtain ;
To carry that which I would have refus'd;
To praise his faith, which I would have dísprais'd.
I am my master's true confirmed love;
But cannot be true servant to my master,
Unless I prove false traitor to myself.
Yet I will woo for him: but yet so coldly,
As, heaven, it knows, I would not have him speed.

Enter Silvia, attended.

Gentlewoman, good day! I pray you, be my mean
To bring me where to speak with madam Silvia.
Sil. What would you with her, if that I be she?
Jul. If you be she, I do entreat your patience
To hear me speak the message I am sent on.
Sil. From whom?

Jul. From my master, sir Proteus, madam.
Sil. O!-He sends you for a picture?
Jul. Ay, madam.

Su. Ursula, bring my picture there.

[Picture brought. Go, give your master this: tell him from me, One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget, Would better fit his chamber, than this shadow. Jul. Madam, please you peruse this letter.Pardon me, madam; I have unadvis'd Delivered you a paper that I should not; This is the letter to your ladyship.

Sil. I pray thee, let me look on that again.
Jul. It may not be; good madam, pardon me.
Sil. There, hold.

I will not look upon your master's lines:
I know, they are stuff'd with protestations,
And full of new-found oaths; which he will break
As easily as I do tear his paper.

Jul. Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring.
Sil. The more shame for him that he sends it me;
For, I have heard him say a thousand times,
His Julia gave it him at his departure:
Though his false finger hath profan'd the ring,
Mine shall not do his Julia so much wrong.
Jul. She thanks you.

Sil. What say'st thou ?

Jul. I thank you, madam, that you tender her:) Poor gentlewoman! my master wrongs her much. Sil. Dost thou know her?

Jul. Almost as well as I do know myself:
To think upon her woes, I do protest,
That I have wept a hundred several times.

Sil. Belike, she thinks that Proteus hath forsook

her.

Jul. I think she doth, and that's her cause of

sorrow.

Sil. Is she not passing fair?

Jul. She hath been fairer, madam, than she is: When she did think my master lov'd her well, She, in my judgment, was as fair as you; But since she did neglect her looking-glass, And threw her sun-expelling mask away, The air hath starv'd the roses in her checks, And pinch'd the lily-tincture of her face, That now she is become as black as I.

Sil. How tall was she?

Jul. About my stature: for, at Pentecost,! When all our pageants of delight were play'd, Our youth got me to play the woman's part, And I was trimm'd in madam Julia's gown, Which served me as fit by all men's judgment, (1) Whitsuntide. (2) In good earnest.

As if the garment had been made for me:
Therefore, I know she is about my height.
And, at that time, I made her weep a-good,❜
For I did play a lamentable part;
Madam, 'twas Ariadne, passioning
For Theseus' perjury, and unjust flight;
Which I so lively acted with my tears,
That my poor mistress, moved therewithal,
Wept bitterly; and, would I might be dead,
If I in thought felt not her very sorrow!

I

Sil. She is beholden to thee, gentle youth!Alas, poor lady! desolate and left!weep myself, to think upon thy words. Here, youth, there is my purse; I give thee this For thy sweet mistress' sake, because thou lov'st her. Farewell. [Exit Silvia. Jul. And she shall thank you for't, if e'er you know her.

A virtuous gentlewoman, mild, and beautiful.
I hope my master's suit will be but cold,
Since she respects my mistress' love so much.
Alas, how love can trifle with itself!
Here is her picture: Let me see I think,
If I had such a tire, this face of mine
Were full as lovely as is this of hers:
And yet the painter flatter'd her a little,
Unless I flatter with myself too much.
Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow:
If that be all the difference in his love,
I'll get me such a colour'd periwig.
Her eyes are grey as glass; and so are mine:
Ay, but her forehead's low, and mine's as high.
What should it be, that he respects in her,
But I can make respective in myself,

If this fond love were not a blinded god?
Come, shadow, come, and take this shadow up,
For 'tis thy rival. O'thou senseless form!
Thou shalt be worshipp'd, kiss'd, lov'd, and ador'd;
And, were there sense in his idolatry,
My substance should be statue in thy stead.
I'll use thee kindly for thy mistress' sake,
That us'd me so; or else, by Jove I vow,

I should have scratch'd out your unseeing eyes,
To make my master out of love with thee. [Exit.

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See, where she comes: Lady, a happy evening!
Sil. Amen, amen! go on, good Eglamour!
Out at the postern by the abbey-wall;
I fear, I am attended by some spies.

Egl. Fear not: the forest is not three leagues off;

If we recover that, we are sure enough. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same. An apartment in the. Duke's palace. Enter Thurio, Proteus, and Julia.

Thu. Sir Proteus, what says Silvia to my suit? (3) Head-dress. (4) Respectable. (5) Safe.

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