Or, at the least, in her's sepulchre thine.

Jul. [Aside.] He heard not that.

Pro. Madam, if your heart be so obdurate,
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 will I make true love.

Jul. [Aside.] 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; But, since your falsehood, 1't shall become you well To worship shadows, and adore false shape, Send to me in the morning, and I'll send it.

Egl. This is the hour that madam Silvia
Entreated me to call, and know her mind.
There's
's some great matter she'd employ me in.-
Madam, madam!

Enter SILVIA above, at her window.
Sil. Who calls?
Egl.
Your servant, and your friend;
One that attends your ladyship's command.
Sil. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good morrow.
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 abhors.
Thyself hast lov'd; and I have heard thee say,
No grief did ever come so near thy heart,
As when thy lady and thy true love died,
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,
I do desire thy worthy company,
Upon whose faith and honor 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,

SCENE IV.-The Same.

Enter LAUNCE with his dog.

Launce. 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 I came no sooner into the diningchamber, but he steps me to her trencher, and steals her capon's leg. Ö! '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 hang'd for't: sure as I live, he had suffer'd 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 the 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; “do you mean to whip the dog?" "Ay, marry, do I," quoth he. "You 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 his 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 kill'd, otherwise he had suffer'd 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 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?

66

h

Enter PROTEUS and JULIA. Pro. Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well,

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:

Jul. In what you please: I will do what I can. Pro. I hope thou wilt.-How, now, you whoreson peasant!

Where have you been these two days loitering? Launce. Marry, sir, I carried mistress Silvia the dog you bade me.

Griefs.- Carings Restrain.- Hoop petticoat.

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

Pro. But she receiv'd my dog? Launce. No, indeed, did she not. Here have I brought him back again.

Pro. What! didst thou offer her this 'cur from me? Launce. Ay, sir: the other squirrel was stolen from me by a hangman boy in the market-place; 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 into my sight.

Away, I say! Stayest thou to vex me here?
A slave that still an end turns me to shame.
[Exit LAUNCE.

Sebastian, I have entertained thee,
Partly, that I have need of such a youth,
That can with some discretion do my business,
For 'tis no trusting to yon foolish lowt;
But, chiefly, for thy face, and thy behavior,
Which (if my augury deceive me not)
Witness good bringing up, fortune, and truth:
Therefore, know thou, for this I entertain thee.
Go presently, and take this ring with thee:
Deliver it to madam Silvia.

She lov'd me well deliver'd it to me.

Jul. It seems, you lov'd not her, to leave her token. She's dead, belike?

Pro. Why dost thou cry alas?

Jul. I cannot choose but pity her.
Pro. Wherefore shouldst 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!

[Exit.

Pro. Well, give to 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.
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 will I 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.

"Still an end," ie., perpetually; generally. quish; resign.

Sil. From whom?

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

3

[brought.

Sil. Ursula, bring my picture there. [A picture
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, so please you to peruse this letter.-
Pardon me, madam, I have unadvis'd [ Giving a
Deliver'd you a paper that I should not: [letter.
This is the letter to your ladyship. [ Giving another
Sil. I pray thee, let me look on that again. [letter.
Jul. It may not be: good madam, pardon me.
Sil. There, hold.
[ Giving it back.

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 have 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.

[her.

Sil. Belike, she thinks, that Proteus hath forsook 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 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 judgments,
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 fa-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 beholding 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 A virtuous gentlewoman, mild, and beautiful! [her.

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 color'd periwig.

Her eyes are green as grass, 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, loved, 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.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-The Same. An Abbey.

Enter EGLAMOUR.

[Exit.

Egl. The sun begins to gild the western sky,
And now it is about the very hour,

That Silvia at friar Patrick's cell should meet me.
She will not fail; for lovers break not hours,
Unless it be to come before their time,
So much they spur their expedition.
Enter SILVIA.

See, where she comes.-
es.-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. A Room 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. Jul. But love will not be spurr'd to what it loathes. [Aside.

Thu. What says she to my face? Pro. She says it is a fair one. Thu. Nay, then the wanton lies: my face is black. Pro. But pearls are fair, and the old saying is, Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes.

Jul. 'Tis true, such pearls as put out ladies' eyes; For I had rather wink than look on them. [Aside. Thu. How likes she my discourse? Pro. Ill, when you talk of war.

•Head-dress-b"Respective," i. e., worthy of respect.•The word statue was formerly used to express a portrait or picture.

Pro. Neither.

Duke. Why, then

She's fled unto that peasant Valentine,
And Eglamour is in her company.

'Tis true; for friar Lawrence met them both,
As he in penance wander'd through the forest:
Him he knew well; and guess'd that it was she,
But, being mask'd, he was not sure of her:
Besides, she did intend confession

At Patrick's cell this even, and there she was not.
These likelihoods confirm her flight from bence:
Therefore, I pray you, stand not to discourse,
But mount you presently; and meet with me
Upon the rising of the mountain-foot,
That leads towards Mantua, whither they are fled.
Dispatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me. [Exit

Thu. Why, this it is to be a 'peevish girl, [in haste.
That flies her fortune when it follows her.
I'll after, more to be reveng'd on Eglamour,
Than for the love of reckless Silvia.

[Exit.

Pro. And I will follow, more for Silvia's love, Than hate of Eglamour that goes with her. [Exit. Jul. And I will follow, more to cross that love, Than hate for Silvia that is gone for love. [Exit.

SCENE III.-The Forest.
Enter SILVIA, and Outlaws.

1 Out. Come, come; be patient, we must bring you to our captain. [Drawing her in. Sil. A thousand more mischances than this one Have learn'd me how to brook this patiently. 2 Out. Come, bring her away.

1 Out. Where is the gentleman that was with her? 3 Out. Being nimble-footed, he hath outrun us; But Moyses, and Valerius, follow him. Go thou with her to the west end of the wood; There is our captain. We'll follow him that's fled: The thicket is beset; he cannot 'scape.

1 Out. Come, I must bring you to our captain's cave. Fear not; he bears an honorable mind, And will not use a woman lawlessly.

Sil. O Valentine! this I endure for thee. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-Another Part of the Forest.
Enter VALENTINE.

Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man! 7 These shadowy, desert, unfrequented woods,

Possess. Out by lease," i. e., leased out to another. 'Foolish.- Heedless; careless,

I better brook than flourishing peopled towns.
Here can I sit alone, unseen of any,
And to the nightingale's complaining notes
Tune my distresses, and record my woes.
O! thou that dost inhabit in my breast,
Leave not the mansion too long tenantless,
Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall,
And leave no memory of what it was!
Repair me with thy presence, Silvia !
Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain!-
What hallooing, and what stir, is this to-day?

[Shouts.

These 3 my rude mates, that make their wills their law,
Have some unhappy passenger in chase.
They love me well; yet I have much to do,
To keep them from uncivil outrages.
Withdraw thee, Valentine: who's this comes here?
[ Withdraws.
Enter PROTEUS, SILVIA, and JULIA.
Pro. Madam, this service having done for you,
(Though you respect not aught your servant doth)
To hazard life, and rescue you from him,
That would have forc'd your honor and your love,
Vouchsafe me, for my meed, but one fair look.
A smaller boon than this I cannot beg,
And less than this, I am sure, you cannot give.
Val. How like a dream is this, I see, and hear!
Love, lend me patience to forbear awhile.
Sil. O, miserable! unhappy that I am!
Pro. Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came;
But by my coming I have made you happy.
Sil. By thy approach thou mak'st me most unhappy.
Jul. And me,when he approacheth to your presence.
[Aside.

Sil. Had I been seized by a hungry lion,
I would have been a breakfast to the beast,
Rather than have false Proteus rescue me.
O, heaven! be judge, how I love Valentine,
Whose life's as tender to me as my soul;
And full as much (for more there cannot be)
I do detest false, perjur'd Proteus:
Therefore be gone: solicit me no more.

b

[Aside.

Thou hast beguil'd my hopes: nought but mine eye
Could have persuaded me.
Now dared I to say,

I have one friend alive, thou wouldst disprove me.
Who should be trusted now, when one's right hand
Is perjur'd to the bosom? Proteus,

I am sorry I must never trust thee more,
But count the world a stranger for thy sake.
The private wound is deepest. O time most accurst!
'Mongst all my foes a friend should be the worst!
Pro. My shame and desperate guilt at once con-
found me.-
Forgive me, Valentine. If hearty sorrow
Be a sufficient ransom for offence,
I tender 't here: I do as truly suffer,
As e'er I did commit.

Val.

Then, I am paid;
And once again I do receive thee honest.
Who by repentance is not satisfied,

Is nor of heaven, nor earth; for these are pleas'd:
By penitence th' Eternal's wrath's appeas'd.
And, that my love may appear plain and free,
All that was mine in Silvia I give thee.
Jul. O me unhappy!

Pro. Look to the boy.

Val. Why, boy! why, wag! how now! what's the matter? look up; speak.

Jul. O good sir! my master charg'd me to deliver a ring to madam Silvia, which, out of my neglect, was never done.

Pro. Where is that ring, boy?

Jul.

Here 'tis this is it. [Gives a ring.

Pro. How! let me see.

10 This is the ring I gave to Julia.

Jul. O! cry you mercy, sir; I have mistook : This is the ring you sent to Silvia. [Shows another Pro. But, how cam'st thou by this ring? [ring. At my depart I gave this unto Julia. Jul. And Julia herself did give it me; And Julia herself hath brought it hither. Pro. How? Julia!

[Discovering herself.

Would I not undergo for one calm look.

O! 'tis the curse in love, and still approv'd,
When women cannot love where they're belov'd.
Sil. When Proteus cannot love where he's belov'd.
Read over Julia's heart, thy first best love,

For whose dear sake thou didst then rend thy faith
Into a thousand oaths; and all those oaths
Descended into perjury to love me.

Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou'dst two,
And that's far worse than none: better have none
Than plural faith, which is too much by one.
Thou counterfeit to thy true friend!

Pro.

Who respects friend?

Sil.

In love

All men but Proteus.

Be thou asham'd, that I have took upon mo
Such an immodest raiment; if shame live
In a disguise of love.

It is the lesser blot, modesty finds,

Women to change their shapes, than men their minds. Pro. Than men their minds: 'tis true. O heaven!

were man

[sins:

But constant, he were perfect: that one error
Fills him with faults; makes him run through all the
Inconstancy falls off, ere it begins.
What is in Silvia's face, but I may spy
More fresh in Julia's, with a constant eye?
Val. Come, come, a hand from either.

Let me be blest to make this happy close:
'Twere pity two such friends should be long foes.
Pro. Bear witness, heaven, I have my wish for ever.
Jul. And I mine.

Enter Outlaws, with DUKE and THURIO.
Out. A prize! a prize! a prize!
Val. Forbear: forbear,

[duke.say; it is my lord the Your grace is welcome to a man disgrac'd,

Do not name Silvia thine; if once again,
1 Milano shall not hold thee. Here she stands:
Take but possession of her with a touch.
I dare thee but to breathe upon my love.
Thu. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I.
I hold him but a fool, that will endanger
His body for a girl that loves him not:

I claim her not, and therefore she is thine.
Duke. The more degenerate and base art thou,
To make such a means for her as thou hast done,
And leave her on such slight conditions.
Now, by the honor of my ancestry,
I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine,
And think thee worthy of an empress' love.
Know then, I here forget all former griefs,
Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again,
Plead a new state in thy unrivall'd merit,
To which I thus subscribe.-Sir Valentine,
Thou art a gentleman, and well deriv'd:
Take thou thy Silvia, for thou hast deserv'd her.
Val. I thank your grace; the gift hath made me
I now beseech you, for your daughter's sake, [happy.
To grant one boon that I shall ask of you.

b

"To make such means," i, e., to make such interest, to take such disingenuous pains.- Recall.

Duke. I grant it for thine own, whate'er it be. Val. These banish'd men, that I have kept withal, Are men endued with worthy qualities; Forgive them what they have committed here, And let them be recall'd from their exile. They are reformed, civil, full of good, And fit for great employment, worthy lord. Duke. Thou hast prevail'd; I pardon them, and Dispose of them, as thou know'st their deserts. Come; let us go: we will conclude all jars With triumphs, mirth, and rare solemnity.

[thee:

Val. And as we walk along, I dare be bold With our discourse to make your grace to smile. What think you of this stripling page, my lord?

Duke. I think the boy hath grace in him: he blushes. Val. I warrant you, my lord, more grace than boy. Duke. What mean you by that saying, 4 Valentine? Val. Please you, I'll tell you as we pass along, That you will wonder what hath fortuned.Come, Proteus; 'tis your penance, but to hear The story of your love's discoverer:

Our day of marriage shall be yours no less; One feast, one house, one mutual happiness.

• Pageants.

[Exeunt.