Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver, To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music. Duke. About it, gentlemen. Pro. We'll wait upon your grace till after supper, [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I.-A Forest, between Milan and Verona. 1 Out. Fellows, stand fast: I see a passenger. 3 Out. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you. But to the purpose; for we cite our faults, 3 Out. Indeed, because you are a banish'd man, Speed. Sir, we are undone. These are the villains To make a virtue of necessity, That all the travellers do fear so much. 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; for he is a proper man. 3 Out. Have you long sojourn'd there? Val. Some sixteen months; and longer might have stay'd, If crooked fortune had not thwarted me. 2 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 kill'd a man, whose death I much repent; 1 Out. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so. Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy, Or else I had been often 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: [They talk apart. 2 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 gentlemen, Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth Thrust from the company of awful men: For practising to steal away a lady, An heir, and near allied unto the duke. 2 Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Who, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart. 1 Out. And I, for such like petty crimes as these. And live, as we do, in this wilderness? 3 Out. What say'st thou? wilt thou be of our consort? 1 Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. Val. I take your offer, and will live with you; On silly women, or poor passengers. 3 Out. No; we detest such vile, base practices. Come, go with us: we'll bring thee to our cave, And show thee all the treasure we have got, Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. [Exeunt. Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine, Thu. Ay; but I hope, sir, that you love not here. Thu. Whom? Silvia? Pro. Ay, Silvia,-for your sake. Thu. I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen, Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile. Enter Host and JULIA (in boy's clothes), behind. Host. Now, my young guest; methinks you're allycholly: I pray you, why is it? Jul. Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry. where you shall hear music, and see the gentlemen Think'st thou, I am so shallow, so conceitless, 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? Host. Ay; but peace! let's hear 'em. SONG. Who is Silvia? what is she, To be seduced by thy flattery, That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows? [Music plays. For me, by this pale queen of night I swear, That all our swains commend her? The heaven such grace did lend her, Is she kind, as she is fair, For beauty lives with kindness? To help him of his blindness; Then to Silvia let us sing, That Silvia is excelling; Upon the dull earth dwelling : Host. How now! are you sadder than you were 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. You would not 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 lov'd 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. Thu. Farewell. [Exeunt THURIO and Musicians. Pro. One, lady, if knew his heart's truth, Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. Pro. Jul. [Aside.] Twere false, if I should speak it; For, I am sure, she is not buried. Sil. Say, that she be; yet Valentine, thy friend, I am betroth'd; and art thou not asham'd Pro. I likewise hear, that Valentine is dead. That I may compass yours. 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. [Aside.] He heard not that. Pro. Madam, if your heart be so obdurate, And to your shadow will I make true love. And make it but a shadow, as I am. Sil. I am very loth to be your idol, sir; But, since your falsehood, 't 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. Jul. Host, will you go? Host. By my halidom, 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 Enter SILVIA above, at her window. Your servant, and your friend; I am thus early come, to know what service Sil. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman, 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 honour Í 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, repose. Which heaven and fortune still reward with plagues. As full of sorrows as the sea of sands, Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances, As much I wish all good befortune you. Sil. This evening coming. Egl. Where shall I meet you? Sil. At friar Patrick's cell, Where I intend holy confession. Sil. Good morrow, kind sir Eglamour. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The Same. 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 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 takes upon him to be a dog indeed, to be, as it were, a that say, one 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? 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! Where have you been these two days loitering? Launce. Marry, sir, I carried mistress Silvia the dog you bade me. 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. brought him back again. Here have I 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? [Exit LAUNCE. Sebastian, I have entertained thee, She lov'd me well deliver'd it to me. She's dead, belike? Pro. Not so: I think, she lives. Pro. Why dost thou cry alas? Jul. I cannot choose but pity her. Pro. Wherefore shouldst thou pity her? As you do love your lady Silvia. Jul. Because, methinks, that she lov'd you as 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! [Exit. This letter:-that's her chamber.-Tell my lady Pro. Well, give to her that ring; and therewithal I claim the promise for her heavenly picture. Your message done, hie home unto my chamber, Where thou shalt find me sad and solitary. Alas, poor Proteus! thou hast entertain'd Jul. How many women would do such a message? Alas, poor fool! why do I pity him, A fox to be the shepherd of thy lambs. 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!) D To plead for that which I would not obtain; carry that which I would have refus'd; Το To praise his faith which I would have disprais'd. Gentlewoman, good day. I pray you, be my mean Jul. From my master, sir Proteus, madam. Jul. Ay, madam. Sil. Ursula, bring my picture there. [A 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, so please you to peruse this letter.Pardon me, madam, I have unadvis'd [ Giving a letter. Deliver'd you a paper that I should not: This is the letter to your ladyship. [ Giving another letter. 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. Jul. Almost as well as I do know myself: Sil. Belike, she thinks, that Proteus hath forsook her. Jul. She hath been fairer, madam, than she is. 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, Sil. She is beholding to thee, gentle youth.- I weep myself, to think upon thy words, Jul. And she shall thank you for't, if e'er you know her. A virtuous gentlewoman, mild, and beautiful! If this fond love were not a blinded god? I should have scratch'd out your unseeing eyes, ACT V. Sil. Amen, amen. Go on, good Eglamour, Out at the postern by the abbey-wall. I fear, I am attended by some spies. [Exit. 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. I'll wear a boot to make it somewhat rounder. Thu. What says she to my face? [Aside. Thu. Nay, then the wanton lies: my face is black. [Aside. Thu. But well, when I discourse of love and peace? Thu. What says she to my valour? [Aside. Pro. O, sir! she makes no doubt of that. Jul. She needs not, when she knows it cowardice. [Aside. [Aside. Thu. Wherefore? Jul. That such an ass should owe them. Jul. Here comes the duke. Enter DUKE, angrily. Duke. How now, sir Proteus! how now, Which of you saw sir Eglamour of late? Thu. Not I. She's fled unto that peasant Valentine, 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; 1 Out. Come, I must bring you to our captain's cave. Sil. O Valentine! this I endure for thee. [Exeunt. Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man! Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain !— [Aside. They love me well; yet I have much to do, Thurio! 'Tis true; for friar Lawrence met them both, At Patrick's cell this even, and there she was not. [Exit in haste. Thu. Why, this it is to be a peevish girl, [Exit. Pro. And I will follow, more for Silvia's love, SCENE III.-The Forest. Enter SILVIA, and Outlaws. [Exit. 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. you, Enter PROTEUS, SILVIA, and JULIA. Sil. O, miserable! unhappy that I am! Sil. Had I been seized by a hungry lion, I would have been a breakfast to the beast, Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to death, Sil. When Proteus cannot love where he's belov'd. |