Your meffage done, hye home unto my chamber,
Where thou shalt find me fad and folitary. [Ex. Pro.
Jul. How many women would do fuch a message?
Alas, poor Protheus, thou haft entertain'd

A fox to be the shepherd 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 must 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 difprais'd.
I am my master's true confirmed love,
But cannot be true fervant to my master,
Unless I prove falfe traitor to my self.

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 the?
Jul. If you be the, I do intreat your patience
To hear me fpeak the meffage I am fent on.
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 mafter this: tell him from me,

One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget,
Would better fit his chamber than this fhadow.

Jul. Madam, may't pleafe you to perufe this letter. Pardon me, Madam, I have unadvis'd

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

Sil. I pray thee, let me look on that again.
VOL. I.

P

Jul.

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 ftufft 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 shall not do his Julia fo much wrong. Jul. She thanks you.

Sil. What fay'ft thou?

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

Ful. Almoft as well, as I do know my self. To think upon her woes, I do proteft,

That I have wept an hundred several times.

Sil. Belike, fhe thinks, that Protheus hath forfook her.
Jul. I think, fhe doth; and that's her cause of sorrow.
Sil. Is the not paffing fair?

Jul. She hath been fairer, Madam, than fhe is:
When she did think, my mafter lov'd her well,
She, in my judgment, was as fair as you.
But fince the did neglect her looking-glafs,
And threw her fun-expelling mafque away;
The air hath ftarv'd the roses 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?

ful. About my ftature: 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 a-good,

For

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 mistress, 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 wept my self, to think upon thy words.
Here, youth, there is my purfe; I give thee this
For thy fweet mistress' fake, because thou lov'st her.
Farewel.:
[Exit Silvia:
Jul. And the fhall 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;
Since the refpects my mistress' 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.
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; (16)
Ay, but her forehead's low, and mine is high.
What fhould it be, that he refpects in her,
But I can make refpective in my felf,
If this fond love were not a blinded god?
Come, fhadow, come; and take this fhadow up;
For 'tis thy rival. O thou fenfeless form,

Thou shalt be worship'd, kifs'd, lov'd and ador'd;

(16) Her Eyes are grey as Grafs.] Mr. Rowe and Mr. Pope's Editions, for what Reason I know not, vary from the old Copies, which have it rightly, Glass. So Chaucer, in the Character of his Priorefs; Full femély ber Wimple pinchid was,

Her Nafe was tretes, her Eyen grey as Glafs.

And were there fenfe in his idolatry,
My substance should be ftatue in thy ftead.
I'll use thee kindly for thy mistress' fake,
That us'd me fo; or elfe, by Jove I vow,
I fhould have scratch'd out your unfeeing eyes,
To make my mafter out of love with thee.

[Exit.

SCENE, near the Friar's Cell, in Milan.

T

Enter Eglamour.

EGLAMOUR.

HE fun begins to gild the western sky,
And now it is about the very hour

Silvia, at Friar Patrick's cell, should 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 he comes. Lady, a happy evening.]

Enter Silvia.

Sil. Amen, Amen! Go on, good Eglamour, Out at the postern by the Abby-wall;

I fear, I am attended by fome spies.

Egl. Fear not; the foreft is not three leagues offs

If we recover that, we're fure enough.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to an Apartment in the Duke's Palace.

Enter Thurio, Protheus, and Julia.

Thu. Sir Protheus, what fays Silvia to my fuit? Pro. Oh, Sir, I find her milder than fhe was, And yet she takes exceptions at your person.

The.

Thu. What, that my leg is too long?

Pro. No; that it is too little.

Thu. I'll wear a boot to make it fomewhat rounder. Pro. But love will not be spurr'd to what it loaths. Thu. What fays fhe to my face?

Pro. She fays, it is a fair one.

Thu. Nay, then the wanton lies; my face is black. Pro. But pearls are fair; and the old faying is, "Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies eyes. Jul. 'Tis true, fuch pearls as put out ladies eyes; For I had rather wink, than look on them. [Afide. Thu. How likes fhe my difcourfe?

Pro. Ill, when you talk of war,

Thu. But well, when I difcourfe of love and peace?
Jul. But better, indeed, when you hold your peace.
Thu. What fays fhe to my valour?

Pro. Oh, Sir, fhe makes no doubt of that.
Jul. She needs not, when she knows it cowardice.
Thu. What fays fhe to my birth?

Pro. That you are well deriv'd.

Jul. True; from a gentleman to a fool.
Thu. Confiders the my poffeffions?

Pro. Oh, ay, and pities them.

Thu. Wherefore?

Jul. That fuch an ass fhould own them.
Pro. That they are out by lease.

Jul. Here comes the Duke,

Enter Duke.

Duke. How now, Sir Protheus? how now,

Which of you faw Sir Eglamour of late?

Thu. Not I.

Pro. Nor I.

Duke. Saw you my daughter?

Pro. Neither.

Duke. Why then

She's fled unto that peasant Valentine;

And Eglamour is in her company.

Thurio?

'Tis true; for Friar Laurence met them both, As he in penance wander'd through the forest:

P 3

Him