Speed. And more faults than hairs,— Laun. Why, that word makes the faults gracious: Well, I'll have her: And if it be a match, as nothing is impossible, Speed. What then? By aught that I can speak in his dispraise, Laun. Why, then will I tell thee,-that thy mas- Which must be done, by praising me as much ter stays for thee at the north gate. Speed. For me? As you in worth dispraise sir Valentine. Laun. For thee? ay: who art thou? he hath Because we know, on Valentine's report, 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! [Exit. Laun. Now will he be swinged for reading my letter: An unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into secrets!-I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's [Exit. correction. SCENE II.-The same. A Room in the Enter DUKE and THURIO; PROTEUS behind. Thu. Since his exile she hath despis'd me most, Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure Pro. Gone, my good lord. Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously. Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your grace, Duke. Thou know'st, how willingly I would effect Duke. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here. Pro. The best way is, to slander Valentine Duke. Ay, but she'll think, that it is spoke in hate. Duke. Then you must undertake to slander him. Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage Being entreated to it by your friend. [him, You are already love's firm votary, And cannot soon revolt and change your mind. Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect :- Duke. Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred poesy. For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews; Visit by night your lady's chamber-window, Duke. This discipline shews thou hast been in love. To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music: To give the onset to thy good advice. Pro. We'll wait upon your grace, till after supper; ACT IV. SCENE I.-A Forest, near Mantua. Enter certain Out-laws. 1 Out. Fellows, stand fast; I see a passenger. 3 Out. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about Val. My friends,- 1 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; Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord: if I can do it, | For he's a proper man. Val. Then know, that I have little wealth to lose; | Under the colour of commending him, A man I am, crossed with adversity : Val. To Verona. 1 Out. Whence came you? Val. From Milan. 3 Out. Have you long sojourn'd there? Val. Some sixteen months; and longer might have If crooked fortune had not thwarted me. 1 Out. What, were you banish'd thence? Val. I was. 2 Out. For what offence? [staid, Val. For that which now torments me to rehearse : 1 Out. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so : Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy; Or else I often had been miserable. 3 Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar, Master, be one of them; 2 Out. Tell us this: Have you any thing to take to? 3 Out. Know then, that some of us are gentlemen, 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. With goodly shape; and by your own report As we do in our quality much want ; 2 Out. Indeed, because you are a banish'd man, To make a virtue of necessity, 3 Out. What say'st thou wilt thou be of our 1 Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. On sily women, or poor passengers. 3 Out. No, we detest such vile base practices. Come, go with us, we'll bring thee to our crews, And shew thee all the treasure we have got; Winch, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. [Exeunt. SCENE IL-Milan. Court of the Palace. Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine, I have access my own love to prefer; Thu. How now, sir Proteus? are you crept before Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio; for, you know, that love Thu. Ay, but, I hope, sir, that you love not here. Pro. Ay, Silvia,-for your sake. Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile. Enter Host, at a distance; and JULIA in boy's clothes. Jul. Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry. Host. Come, we'll have you merry: I'll bring you where you shall hear music, and see the gentleman that you ask'd for. Jul. But shall I hear him speak? Jul. That will be music. Host. Hark! Hark! Jul. Is he among these? [Music plays. Host. Ay: but peace, let's hear 'em. SONG. 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. Is she kind, as she is fair? For beauty lives with kindness: To help him of his blindness; That Silvia is excelling; Upon the dull earth dwelling: Host. How now? are you sadder than you were How do you, man? the music likes you not. 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 music. Host. Hark, what fine change is in the music! Jul. 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. At saint Gregory's well. SILVIA appears above, at her window. Pro. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth, Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. That I may compass yours. That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows? 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, The picture that is hanging in your chamber; 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 And make it but a shadow as I am. [it, [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, 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! SILVIA appears above, at her window. I am thus early come to know what service Sil. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman, Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances; Sil. This evening coming. Egl. Where shall I meet you? Sil. At Friar Patrick's cell, 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. 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 mistress Silvia, from my master; and Icame no sooner into the dining chamber, 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: you shall judge. He thrusts me himself into the company of three or four gentleman-like 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 a third; Hang him up, says the duke. I, 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. You do kim the more wrong, quoth I; 'twas I did the thing you wet 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'll be sworn, 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!-Nay, I remember the trick you served me, when I took my leave of madam Silvia; did not I bid thee still mark me, and do as I do? When did'st 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. Pra. 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 cur; and tells you, currish thanks is good enough for such a Pre. But she received my dog? [present. 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 market-place and then I offered her mine own; who is a dog as big as ten of yours, and therefore the gift the greater. Pre. Go, get thee hence, and find my dog again, Or ne'er return again into my sight. Away, I say: Stay'st thou to vex me here? Sebastian, I have entertained thee, She loved me well, deliver'd it to me. Pro. Why dost thou cry, alas! Jul. I cannot choose but pity her? Pro. Wherefore should'st thou pity her? Jul. Because, methinks, that she lov'd you as well As you do love your lady Silvia: 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! Pro. Well, give her that ring, and therewithal This letter;-that's her chamber.-Tell my lady, I claim the promise for her heavenly picture. Your message done, hie home unto my chamber, Where thou shalt find me sad and solitary. [Erit PRO. 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 disprais'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. From my master, sir Proteus, madam. Sil. Ursula, bring my picture there. [Picture brought. Jul. Madam, please you peruse this letter.- Sil. I pray thee, let me look on that again. I will not look upon your master's lines: Jul. Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring. 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: Sil. Belike, she thinks that Proteus hath forsook her. [sorrow. 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 cheeks, 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, 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! Sil. She is beholden to thee, gentle youth!Alas, poor lady! desolate and left!— I 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 Here is her picture: Let me see; I think, ACT V. SCENE I.-The same. An Abbey. Enter EGLAMOUR. eyes, [Exit. Egl. The sun begins to gild the western sky: And now, it is about the very hour That Silvia, at Patrick's cell, should meet me. Enter SILVIA. See where she comes: Lady, a happy evening! 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? Pro. O, sir, I find her milder than she was; And yet she takes exceptions at your person. Thu. What, that my leg is too long? Pro. No; that it is too little. Thu. I'll wear a boot to make it somewhat rounder. Thu. Nay, then the wanton lies; my face is black. Thu. But well, when I discourse of love and peace? Jul. But better, indeed, when you hold your peace? Aside. Duke. Pro. Nor I. Thurio? Saw you my daughter? 'Tis true; for friar Laurence met them both, At Patrick's cell this even; and there she was not; That leads towards Mantua, whither they are fled. |