SCENE II. The Same. An Apartment in the DUKE'S Palace. Enter DUKE and THURIO; PROTEUS behind. Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love you, Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight. Thu. Since his exile she hath despis'd me most; Forsworn my company, and rail'd at me, That I am desperate of obtaining her. Duke. This weak impress of love is as a figure Trenched in ice, which with an hour's heat Dissolves to water, and doth lose his form. A little time will melt her frozen thoughts, And worthless Valentine shall be forgot.-How now, sir Proteus! Is your countryman, According to our proclamation, gone? Pro. Gone, my good lord. Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously. Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that grief. Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so. Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee, (For thou hast shown some sign of good desert,) Makes me the better to confer with thee. Pro. Longer than I prove loyal to your grace, Let me not live to look upon your grace.. Duke. Thou know'st how willingly I would effect The match between sir Thurio and my daughter. Pro. I do, my lord. Duke. And also, I think, thou art not ignorant How she opposes her against my will. Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here. Duke. Ay, and perversely she persevers so. What might we do to make the girl forget The love of Valentine, and love sir Thurio? Pro. The best way is, to slander Valentine 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. Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage him, Your slander never can endamage him: Being entreated to it by your friend. Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord. If I can do it, By aught that I can speak in his dispraise, 24 She shall not long continue love to him. Duke. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind, Because we know, on Valentine's report, And cannot soon revolt, and change your mind. Duke. Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred poesy. For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews, Visit by night your lady's chamber window 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. Pro. We'll wait upon your grace till after supper, [Exeunt. Val. From Milan. 3 Out. Have you long sojourn'd there? Val. For that which now torments me to rehearse. Val. Some sixteen months; and longer might I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent; have stay'd, If crooked fortune had not thwarted me. 2 Out. What! were you banish'd thence? Val. I was. 2 Out. For what offence? But yet I slew him manfully, in fight, 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 had been often miserable. 3 Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar, This fellow were a king for our wild faction. 1 Out. We'll have him. Sirs, a word. Speed. Master, be one of them: It is an honourable kind of thievery. 2 Out. Tell us this: have you any thing to take to? Val. Nothing, but my fortune. 3 Out. Know then, that some of us are gentlemen, Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth Thrust from the company of awful men: Myself was from Verona banished, For practising to steal away a lady, An heir, and near allied unto the duke. 2 Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Who, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart. 1 Out. And I, for such like petty crimes as these. With goodly shape; and by your own report As we do in our quality much want 2 Out. Indeed, because you are a banish'd man, Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you. Are you content to be our general? To make a virtue of necessity, And live, as we do, in this wilderness? 3 Out. What say'st thou wilt thou be of our consort? Say, ay, and be the captain of us all. 1 Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. 2 Out. Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offer'd. Val. I take your offer, and will live with you; Provided that you do no outrages On silly women, or poor passengers. 3 Out. No; we detest such vile, base practices. Come, go with us: we'll bring thee to our crews, And show thee all the treasure we have got, Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. SCENE II.-Milan. [Exeunt. The Court of the Palace. Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine, She twits me with my falsehood to my friend; window, And give some evening music to her ear. Who is Silvia? what is she, That all our swains commend her? The heaven such grace did lend her, Is she kind, as she is fair, For beauty lives with kindness? To help him of his blindness; That Silvia is excelling; Upon the dull earth dwelling: Host. How now! are you sadder than you were before? 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. Ay; I would I were deaf! it makes me have 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? told me, Host. I tell you what Launce, his man, he lov'd 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. At saint Gregory's well. [Exeunt THURIO and Musicians. Enter SILVIA above, at her window. Pro. Madam, good even to your ladyship. Sil. I thank you for your music, gentlemen. Who is that, that spake ? Pro. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth, You would quickly learn to know him by his voice. Sil. Sir Proteus, as I take it. Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. That I may compass yours. Sil. You have your wish my will is even this, That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows? Jul. [Aside.] "Twere false, if I should speak it; 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 importunacy? Pro. I likewise hear, that Valentine is dead. Sil. And so, suppose, am I; for in his grave, Assure thyself, my love is buried. Pro. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth. Sil. Go to thy lady's grave, and call her's thence; Or, at the least, in her's sepulchre thine. Jul. [Aside.] He heard not that. 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 will I make true love. Jul. [Aside.] If 'twere a substance, you would, sure, deceive it, 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 Pro. [Exeunt PROTEUS, and SILVIA. Egl. As many, worthy lady, to yourself. I am thus early come, to know what service Sil. O Églamour, thou art a gentleman, Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances; As much I wish all good befortune you. At friar Patrick's cell, Sil. This evening coming. Egl. Where shall I meet you? Sil. Where I intend holy confession. Egl. I will not fail your ladyship. Good morrow, Gentle lady. Sil. Good morrow, kind sir Eglamour. [Exeunt. 27 SCENE IV.-The Same. Enter LAUNCE with his dog. Launce. 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 diningchamber, 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 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 hang'd for't: sure as I live, he had suffer'd for't. You shall judge. He thrusts me himself into the company of three or four gentlemanlike 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 | And will employ thee in some service presently. 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 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 his 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 kill'd, otherwise he had suffer'd 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 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? Jul. In what you please: I will do what I can. Pro. I hope thou wilt.-How, now, you whoreson peasant! Where have you been these two days loitering? Launce. Marry, sir, I carried mistress Silvia the dog you bade me. Pro. And what says she to my little jewel? Launce. Marry, she says, your dog was a cur; and tells you, currish thanks is good enough for such a present. Enter PROTEUS and JULIA. Pro. Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well, Pro. But she receiv'd my dog? Launce. No, indeed, did she not. Here have I brought him back again. Pro. What! didst thou offer her this from me? Launce. Ay, sir: the other squirrel was stolen from me by the hangman's boys in the marketplace; 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 sight. |