Laun. Marry, Sir, I carry'd mistress Silvia the dog you bad me.

Pro. And what fays fhe to my little jewel?

Laun. Marry, fhe fays, your dog was a cur, and tells you, currifh thanks is good enough for fuch a prefent. Pro. But fhe receiv'd my dog?

Loun. No indeed fhe did not: here have I brought him back again.

Pro. What, didft thou offer her this from me?

Laun. Ay, Sir; the other, Squirrel, was ftol'n from me by the hangman's 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 fight:

Away, I fay; ftay'ft thou to vex me here?

A flave, that ev'ry day turns me to fhame. [Exit Laun. Sebaftian, I have entertained thee,

Partly that I have need of fuch a youth,

That can with some discretion do my business;
(For 'tis no trufting to yon foolish lowt:)
But chiefly for thy face and thy behaviour,
Which, if my augury deceive me not,
Witnefs good bringing up, fortune and truth:
Therefore know thou, for this I entertain thee,
Go prefently, and take this ring with thee;
Deliver it to Madam Silvia.

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

Jul. It feems you lov'd not her, to leave her token:

She's dead belike.

Pro. Not fo: I think fhe lives.

Pro.

Why fhouldst thou pity her?

Jul. Becaufe methinks + 'if fhe loves you as well

As

As you do love your lady Silvia;

She dreams on him that has forgot her love; You doat on her that cares not for your love: 'Tis pity love fhould be fo contrary;

And thinking on it makes me cry alas!

Pro. Well, give her that ring, and give therewithal
This letter, that's her chamber: tell my lady,

I claim the promise for her heav'nly picture.
Your meffage done, hye home unto my chamber,
Where thou fhalt find me fad and folitary.

[Exit Pro.

Jul. How many women would do fuch a meffage?
Alas, poor Protheus, thou haft entertain'd
A fox to be the fhepherd of thy lambs:
Alas, poor fool, why do I pity him
That with his very heart defpifeth me?
Because he loves her, he defpifeth me;
Because I love him, I muft pity him.
This ring I gave him when he parted from me,
To bind him to remember my good will.
And now I am, unhappy meffenger,

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 mafter's true confirmed love,
But cannot be true fervant to my master,
Unless I prove falfe traitor to my felf.
Yet will I woo for him, but yet fo coldly,
As, heav'n it knows, I would not have him speed.
Enter Silvia.

Lady, good day; I pray you, be my mean
To bring me where to fpeak with Madam Silvia.
Sil. What would you with her, if that I be fhe?
Jul. If you be fhe, I do intreat your patience
To hear me fpeak the meffage I am fent on.

04

Sil.

Sil. From whom?

Jul. From my mafter Sir Protheus, Madam.
Sil. Oh! he fends you for a picture?
Jul. Ay, Madam.

Sil. Urfula, bring my picture there.

Go, give your master this; tell him from me,
One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget,
Would better fit his chamber than this fhadow.
Jul. Madam, may't please you to peruse this letter.
Pardon me, Madam, I have unadvis'd

Deliver'd you a paper that I fhould not;
This is the letter to your ladyfhip.

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 mafter's lines,

I know they're stufft with proteftations,

And full of new-found oaths, which he will break
As eafily as I do tear his
paper.

Jul. Madam, he fends your ladyship this ring.
Sil. The more fhame for him that he fends it me;
For I have heard him fay a thousand times,

His Julia gave it him at his departure:

Tho' his falfe finger have prophan'd the ring,
Mine fhall not do his Julia fo much wrong.
Jul. She thanks you.

Sil. What fay'ft thou?

ful. I thank you, Madam, that you tender her; Poor gentlewoman, my mafter wrongs her much. Sil. Doft thou know her?

Jul. Almoft as well as I do know my. felf. To think upon her woes, I do protest

That I have wept an hundred feveral times:

Sil. Belike the thinks that Protheus hath forfook her. ful. I think fhe doth; and that's her caufe of forrow. Sil. Is fhe not paffing fair?

Jul. She hath been fairer, Madam, than fhe is: When he did think my mafter lov'd her well,

She

She, in my judgment, was as fair as you.
But fince the did neglect her looking-glafs,
And threw her fun-expelling mask away,
The air hath starv'd the roles in her cheeks,
And pinch'd the lilly-tincture of her face,
That now fhe is become as black as I.
Sil. How tall was fhe?

Jul. About my stature: for at Pentecoft,
When all our pageants of delight were plaid,
Our youth got me to play the woman's part,
And I was trim'd in Madam Julia's
gown,
Which ferved me as fit, by all mens judgments,
As if the garment had been made for me;
Therefore I know fhe is about my height.
And at that time I made her weep agood,
For I did play a lamentable part.
Madam, 'twas Ariadne paffioning
For Thefeus' perjury and unjuft flight;
Which I fo lively acted with my tears,
That my poor miftrefs, moved therewithal,
Wept bitterly; and would I might be dead,
If I in thought felt not her very forrow!

Sil. She is beholden to thee, gentle youth.
Alas, poor lady! defolate and left!

I weep my felf to think upon thy words.
Here, youth, there is a purfe; I give thee this

For thy fweet mistress' fake, because thou lov'ft her.

[Exit Silvia.

ful. And she shall thank you for't, if e'er you know her. A virtuous gentlewoman, mild and beautiful.

I hope my mafter's fuit will be but cold,

5

Since the refpects 'his miftrefs' love fo much.
Alas! how love can trifle with it felf!

Here is her picture; let me fee; I think,
If I had fuch 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 my felf too much.

5 my

Her

Her Hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow.
If that be all the diff'rence in his love,
I'll get me fuch a colour'd perriwig.

Her eyes are grey as glafs, and fo are mine;
Ay, but her forehead's low, and mine is high.
What should it be that he refpects in her,
But I can make refpective in my self,

If this fond love were not a blinded god?
Come, fhadow, come, and take this fhadow
For 'tis thy rival. O thou fenfeless form,

up;

Thou shalt be worship'd, kifs'd, lov'd and ador'd;
And were there fenfe in his idolatry,

My fubftance should be 'fainted in thy ftead.
I'll ufe thee kindly for thy mistress' fake,
That us'd me fo; or elfe, by Jove I vow,
I should have fcratch'd out thy unseeing eyes,
To make my mafter out of love with thee.

[Exit.

THE Sun begins to gild the western sky,

And now it is about the very hour

Silvia, at Friar Patrick's cell, fhould meet me.
She will not fail; for lovers break not hours,
Unless it be to come before their time:

So much they fpur their expedition.

See where fhe comes. Lady, a happy evening!

6 ftatue

Enter