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.

Duke. 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.

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;
You must lay lime, to tangle her desires,
By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes
Should be full fraught with serviceable vows.

Duke. Ay, much the force of heaven-bred

poesy.

tage him,

Your slander never can endamage him;

Therefore the office is indifferent,

Being entreated to it by your friend.

it,

By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not long continue love to him.
But say, this weed her love from Valentine,
It follows not, that she will love sir Thurio.
Thu. Therefore as you unwind her love from
him,

Lest it should ravel, and be good to none,
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;

Because we know, on Valentine's report,
You are already love's firm votary,
And cannot soon revolt and change your mind.
Upon this warrant shall you have access,
Where you with Silvia may confer at large;
For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy,
And, for your friend's sake, will be glad of you;
Where you may temper her, by your persuasion,

SCENE I.-A forest, near Mantua. Enter certain Outlaws.

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

vance.

This, or else nothing, will inherit her. Duke. This discipline shows thou hast been in love.

Thu. And thy advice this night I'll put in practice:

Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver,
Let us into the city presently,
To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music:
I have a sonnet, that will serve the turn,
To give the onset to thy good advice.
Duke. About it, gentlemen.

Pro. We'll wait upon your grace till after supper:

And afterward determine our proceedings. Duke. Even now about it; I will pardon you. [Exeunt.

2 Out. For what offence?

Val. For that which now torments me to rehéarse:

SCENE II.-Milan. Court of the palace.

Enter PROTEUS.

I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent;
But yet I slew him manfully in fight,
Without false vantage, or base treachery.

1 Out. 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? Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy;

Or else I often had been miserable.

Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine, And now I must be as unjust to Thurio. Under the colour of commending him 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

friar,

This fellow were a king for our wild faction.

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

And, notwithstanding all her sudden quips,
The least whereof would quell 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

Val. Peace, villain !

window,

take to?

Val. Nothing, but my fortune.

Enter THURIO, and Musicians.

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

tlemen,

Thu. How now, sir Proteus? are you crept before us?

Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth

Thrust from the company of awful men:

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

Myself was from Verona banished,

Will creep in service where it cannot go.

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

Thu. Ay, but, I hope, sir, that you love not here.

Pro. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence. Thu. Whom? Silvia?

Pro. Ay, Silvia, for your sake.

Thu. I thank you for your own.-Now, gentle

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?

Jul. Not so; but yet so false, that he grieves

my very heart-strings.

Host. You have a quick ear.

Jul. Aý, I would I were deaf! it makes me have a slow heart.

Host. I perceive, you delight not in musick. Jul. Not a whit, when it jars so.

Host. Hark, what fine change is in the musick! 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. 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 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.

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.

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 I will make true love. Jul. If 'twere a substance, you would, sure, deceive it,

Aside.

And make it but a shadow, as I am.
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'ernight,
That wait for execution in the morn.

[Exeunt Proteus; and Silvia, from above. Jul. Host, will you go? 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. Notso; but it hath been the longest night, That e'er I watch'd, and the most heaviest.

SCENE III. The same.

Enter EGLAMOUR.

[Exeunt.

Egl. This is the hour that madam Silvia Entreated me to call, and know her mind;

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 seduced by thy flattery,

That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows?

Madam, madam!

SILVIA appears above, at her window.

Sil. Who calls?

Egl. Your servant, and your friend; One, that attends your ladyship's command.

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 accomplished.
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 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 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,

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 gentlemen-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, you mean to whip the dog ? Ay, marry do I, quoth he. You do him the more wrong, quoth 1; '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'll be sworn, I have sat on the stocks for puddings he hath stolen, otherwise he had been executed: I have stood on the pillory forgeese 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

To keep me from a most unholy match,

plagues.

I do desire thee, even from a heart

As full of sorrows as the sea of sands,

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?

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, I 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.

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.

SCENE IV. The same.

Enter LAUNCE, with his dog.

[Exeunt.

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

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 cur; 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 offered 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: Stay'st 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,

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.

[Exit Proteus.

Jul. How many women would do such a mes-
sage?
Alas, poor Proteus! thou hast entertain'd
A fox, to be the shepherd of thy lambs:
Alas, poor fool! why why do do I 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 dis-
prais'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.

Sil. 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 stuffed with protestations,
And full of new-found oaths; which he will

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 an 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 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!