or four of his blad 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 ato the dining chamber, but he steps me to her trencher, a d 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 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 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 ;-1 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 Pro. 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. 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,
That can with some discretion do my business,
For 'tis no trusting to yon foolish lowt;
But, chiefly, for thy face, and thy behaviour;
Which (if my augury deceive me not)
Witness good bringing up, fortune, and truth:
Therefore know thou, for is I entertain thee.
Go presently, and take this ring with thee,
Deliver it to madam Silvia :

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. [Exit 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. If you be she, I do entreat your patience
To hear me speak the message I am sent on.
Sil. From whom?

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

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
Deliver'd 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 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 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
Sil. Is she not passing fair?

[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; give thee this For thy sweet mistress' sake, because thou lov'st her. Farewell. [Exit SILVIA.

know

Jul. And she shall thank you for 't, if e'er you
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 colour'd periwig.
Her eyes are grey as glass; 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, lov'd, 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. ad now, it is about the very hour

That Silvia, at Patrick's cell, should meet ma
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: 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. 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
Pro. But love will not be spurr'd to what it loaths
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.

Thu. But well, when I discourse of love and peace! Jul. But better, indeed, when you hold your peace?

[Aside.

Duke. Why, then she's fled unto that peasant Va And Eglamour is in her company. [lentine ;

'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

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.
Dispatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me. [Exit.
Thu. Why this it is to be a peevish girl,

Be patient, we must bring you to our captain.
Sil. A thousand more mischances than this be
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 out-run 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.

[cave;

1 Out. Come, I must bring you to our captain's Fear not; he bears an honourable 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!
This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,
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 so 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 halloing, and what stir, is this to-day?
These are my 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?
[Steps aside.

Enter PROTEUS, Silvia, and Julia. Pro. Madam, this service I have done for you, (Though you respect not aught your servant doth,) To hazard life, and rescue you from him That wou'd have forc'd your honour 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 a while.

[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 unhappy.
Jul. And me, when he approacheth to your pre-

sence.

[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.

Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to death,
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 had'st 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!

In love,

Pro. Who respects friend? Sil. 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!

Valentine! [love;

Val. Thou common friend, that's without faith or (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 friend should be the worst.
Pro. My shame and guilt confound 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.

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 pleased;
And, that my love may appear plain and free,
By penitence the Eternal's wrath's appeas'd:-
All that was mine in Silvia, I give thee.
Jul. O me, unhappy!

[Faints. [matter?

Pro. Look to the boy. Val. Why, boy! why, wag! how now? what is the 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: Why this is the ring I gave to Julia. Jul. Ory you mercy, sir, I have mistook, This is the ring you sent to Silvia. [Shews another ring Pra But, how cam'st thou by this ring? at my deI gave this unto Julia.

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

[part,

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? O Proteus, let this habit make thee blush!

Be thou asham'd, that I have took upon me