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.
us garlands bring.

To her let

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; [Aside.

For, I am sure, she is not buried.

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,

Host. How now? are you sadder than you were Assure thyself, my love is buried.

Pro. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth.

before?

How do you, man? the music likes you not.

Sil. Go to thy lady's grave, and call her's thence;

Jul. You mistake; the musician likes me not.

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

Host. Why, my pretty youth?

Jul. He heard not that.

[Aside.

Jul. He plays false, father.

Pro. Madam, if your heart be so obdúrate,

Host. How? out of tune on the strings?

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;

Jul. Ay, I would I were deaf! it makes me have Is else devoted, I am but a shadow; 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!
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. If 'twere a substance, you would, sur",

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

Host. Marry, at my house: Trust me, I think

Sil. You have your wish; my will is even this, It is your pleasure to command me in.
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.

F

Sil. O Églamour, 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,
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,

Iserved 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.

To keep me from a most unholy match,
Which heaven and fortune still reward with Jul. In what you please; -I will do what I can.

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,
I give consent to go along with you;
Recking1 as little what betideth me,
As much I wish all good befortune you.

When will you go?

Sil.

This evening coming.

son peasant ?

Pro. I hope, thou wilt.-How now, you whoreTo 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? Egl. Where shall I meet you? Laun. Ay, sir; the other squirrel was stolen su. Át friar Patrick's cell, from me by the hangman's boys in the market

Where I intend holy confession.
Egl. I will not fail your ladyship:

Good-morrow, gentle lady.

Sil. Good-morrow, kind sir Eglamour.

[Exeunt.

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 unto my sight. Away, I say: Stay'st thou to vex me here? SCENE IV.-The same. Enter Launce, with A slave, that, still an end, turns me to shame. his dog.

[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, That can with some discretion do my business, him, look you, it goes hard: one that I brought up For 'tis no trusting to yon foolish lowt: 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 trencher, and She loved me well, delivered it to me. steals her capon's leg. O'tis a foul thing, when

a cur cannot keep himself in all companies! I Jul. It seems you loved her not, to leave her

token:

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

Pro.

Not so; I think, she lives.

Jul. Alas!

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 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; She dreams on him, that has forgot her love; What cur is that? says another; Whip him out, You dote on her, that cares not for your love. says the third; Hang him up, says the duke. I, 'Tis pity, love should be so contrary; having been acquainted with the smell before, And thinking on it makes me cry, alas! knew it was Crab; and goes me to the fellow that Pro. Well, give her that ring, and therewithal whips the dogs: Friend, quoth I, you mean to This letter; that's her chamber. Tell my lady, whip the dog? Ay, marry, do I, quoth he.

You

I claim the promise for her heavenly picture. do him the more wrong, quoth 1; 'twas I did the Your message done, hie home unto my chamber, Where thou shalt find me sad and solitary. [Exit Proteus.

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

sage?

be sworn, I have sat in the stocks for puddings he Jul. How many women would do such a meshath stolen, otherwise he had been executed: I Alas, poor Proteus! thou hast entertain'd have stood on the pillory for gecse he hath killed, A fox, to be the shepherd of thy lambs: otherwise he had suffered for't: thou think'st not Alas, poor fool! Why do I pity him of this now !-Nay, I remember the trick you That with his very heart despiseth me?

Because he loves her, he despiseth me;

(1) Caring. (2) Restrain. (3) In the end. Because I love him, I must pity him.

As, heaven, it knows, I would not have him speed. Sil. She is beholden to thee, gentle youth!

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

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.

Thu. But well, when I discourse of love, and
peace?

Jul. But better, indeed, when you hold your

peace.

SCENE IV.- Another part of the Forest.
Enter Valentine.

Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man
[Aside. This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,
I better brook than flourishing peopled towns:
Here can I sit alone, unseen of any,

Thu. What says she to my valour?
Pro. O, sir, she makes no doubt of that.
Jul. She needs not, when she knows it coward- And, to the nightingale's complaining notes,

Jul. True; from a gentleman to a fool. [Aside. Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall,

Pro. That they are out by lease.

ice.

Thu. What says she to my birth?

[Aside. Tune my distresses, and record my woes.
O thou that dost inhabit in my breast,

Pro. That you are well deriv'd.

Leave not the mansion so long tenantless;

Thu. Considers she my possessions?

Pro. O, ay; and pities them.

And leave no memory of what it was!
Repair me with thy presence, Silvia;

Thu. Wherefore?

Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain!

Jul. That such an ass should owe1 them. [Aside. What halloing, and what stir, is this to-day?

These are my mates, that make their wills their

Jul. Here comes the duke.

Enter Duke.

law,
Have some unhappy passenger in chace :
They love me well; yet I have much to do,

Duke. How now, sir Proteus? how now, Thurio To keep them from uncivil outrages.

Which of you saw sir Eglamour of late?

Saw you my daughter?

Neither.

Enter Proteus, Silvia, and Julia.

Duke. Why, then she's fled unto that peasant (Though you respect not aught your servant doth,)

Valentine;

And Eglamour is in her company.

'Tis true; for friar Laurence 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 it:

Besides, she did intend confession

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. [Aside.
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 un

At Patrick's cell this even; and there she was not:
These likelihoods confirm her flight from hence.
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 :
Despatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me. [Exit.
Thu. Why, this it is to be a peevish girl,
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. Rathanaest to the Pro. And I will follow, more for Silvia's love,
Than hate of Eglamour that goes with her. [Exit. O, heaven be judge, how I love Valentine,
[Exit. Whose life's as tender to me as my soul;
[Exit. And full as much (for more there cannot be,)
Ido detest false perjur'd Proteus:
Therefore be gone, solicit me no more.
Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to
death,
Would I not undergo for one calm look?

Scene IV.

O, 'tis the curse in love, and still approv'd,1
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,

Pro. How! Julia!

Jul. Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths,
And entertain'd them deeply in her heart:
How oft hast thou with perjury cleft the root!3
O Proteus, let this habit make thee blush!

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

For whose dear sake thou didst then rend thy Be thou asham'd, that I have took upon me

faith

Into a thousand oaths; and all those oaths

Descended into perjury, to love me.

Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou hadst 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.

Pro. Nay, if the gentle spirit of moving words Can no way change you to a milder form,

I'll woo you like a soldier, at arms' end;

And love you 'gainst the nature of love, force you.

Sil. O heaven!

Pro.

I'll force thee yield to my desire.
Val. Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil touch;
Thou friend of an ill fashion!
Pro.

Valentine!

Val. Thou common friend, that's without faith

or love;

(For such is a friend now,) treacherous man! Thou hast beguil'd my hopes; nought but mine

eye

Could have persuaded me: Now I dare not say
I have one friend alive; thou would'st 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 curst!
*Mongst all foes, that a
should be the worst!

Pro. My shame and guilt confounds me.
Forgive me, Valentine: if hearty sorrow
Be a sufficient ransom for offence,
I tender it here; I do as truly suffer,

As e'er I did commit.

But constant, he were perfect: that one error
Fills him with faults; makes him run through all

sins:

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 have mine.

Enter Out-laws, with Duke and Thurio.

Out.

A prize, a prize, a prize!

Val. Forbear, I say; It is my lord the duke.
Your grace is welcome to a man disgrac'd,
Banish'd Valentine.

Duke.

Sir Valentine!

Thu. Yonder is Silvia; and Silvia's mine.
Val. Thurio, give back, or else embrace thy

death;

Come not within the measure of my wrath:
not name Silvia thine; if once again,
Milan shall not behold thee. Here she stands,
Take but possession of her with a touch!-
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.

I

Duke. The more degenerate and base art thou, To make such means for her as thou hast done, And leave her on such slight conditions.

Now, by the honour 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
happy.

[Gives a ring. I now beseech you, for your daughter's sake,
To grant one boon that I shall ask of you.
Duke. I grant it, for thine own, whate'er it be.
Val. These banish'd men, that I have kept

Jul. O, cry you mercy, sir, I have mistook ;

This is the ring you sent to Silvia.

[Shows another ring.

Pro. But, how cam'st thou by this ring? at my

depart, I gave this unto Julia.

Jul. And Julia herself did give it me; And Julia herself hath brought it hither.

(1) Felt, experienced. (2) Direction.
(3) An allusion to cleaving the pin in archery.

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

thee;
Dispose of them, as thou know'st their deserts.
(5) Interest.
(4) Length of my sword.