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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
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
Pro. Gone, my good lord.
Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so.
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:
Pro. You have prevailid, my lord. If I can do it, By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not long continue love to him.
Thu. Therefore, as you unwind her love from him,
kind, Because we know, on Valentine's report, You are already love's firm votary, And cannot soon revolt, and change your mind. Upon this warrant shall you have access Where you with Silvia may confer at large ; For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy, And for your friend's sake will be glad of you, Where you may temper her, by your persuasion, To hate young Valentine, and love
Duke. Ay, much is the force of heaven-bred poesy.
Pro. Say, that upon the altar of her beauty You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart. Write, till your ink be dry, and with your tears Moist it again; and frame some feeling line, That may discover such integrity : For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews, Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones, Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands. After your dire-lamenting elegies, Visit by night your lady's chamber window With some sweet consort: to their instruments Tune a deploring dump; the night's dead silence Will well become such sweet complaining grievance. This, or else nothing will inherit her. 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.
Duke. About it, gentlemen.
Pro. We'll wait upon your grace till after supper, And afterward determine our proceedings. Duke. Even now about it: I will pardon you.
SCENE I.-A Forest, between Milan and Verona. Val. My ends,—
1 Out. That's not so, sir : we are your enemies. Enter certain Outlaws.
2 Oul. Peace! we'll hear him. 1 Out. Fellows, stand fast: I see a passenger. 3 Out. Ay, by my beard, will we; for he is a 2 Out. If there be ten, shrink not, but down with || proper man. 'em.
Val. Then know, that I have little wealth to lose. Enter VALENTINE and SPEED.
A man I am, cross'd with adversity :
My riches are these poor habiliments, 3 Out. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have of which if you should bere disfurnish me, about you;
You take the sum and substance that I have. If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you.
2 Out. Whither travel you? Speed. Sir, we are undone. These are the villains Val. To Verona. That all the travellers do fear so much.
1 Out. Whence came you?
Val. From Milan.
Val. For that which now torments me to re3 Out. Have you long sojourn'd there?
hearse. Val. Some sixteen months; and longer might I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent; have stay'd,
But yet I slew him manfully, in fight, If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.
Without false vantage, or base treachery. 2 Out. What! were you banish'd thence ?
1 Out. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so. Val. I was.
But were you banish'd for so small a fault ? 2 Out. For what offence?
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.
Val. Peace, villain ! 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. But to the purpose; for we cite our faults, That they may hold excus'd our lawless lives; And, partly, seeing you are beautify'd With goodly shape; and by your own report A linguist, and a man of such perfection, 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. We'll do thee homage, and be ruld by thee, Love thee as our commander, and our king. 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.
Enter Thurio, and Musicians.
fore us? Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio ; for, you know, that
Thu. Ay; but I hope, sir, that you love not here.
Thu. I thank you for your own. Now, gentle-
clothes. Host. Now, my young guest; methinks you're allycholly: I pray you, why is it?
Jul. Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry.
Host. Come, we'll have you merry. I'll bring you where you shall hear music, and see the gentleman that you ask'd for.
Jul. But shall I hear him speak ?
SCENE II.-Milan. The Court of the Palace.
Enter PROTEUS. Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine, And now I must be as unjust to Thurio. Under the colour of commending him, I have access my own love to preser; But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy, To be corrupted with my worthless gifts. When I protest true loyalty to her, She twits me with my falsehood to my friend; When to her beauty I commend my vows, She bids me think how I have been forsworn, In breaking faith with Julia whom I lov’d: And, notwithstanding all her sudden quips, The least whereof would quell a lover's hope, Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love, The more it grows, and fawneth on her still. But here comes Thurio. Now must we to her
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,
For beauty lives with kindness ?
To help him of his blindness ;
That Silvia is ercelling ;
Upon the dull earth dwelling:
To her let us garlands bring. 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.
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.
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 lov'd her out of all nick.
Jul. Where is Launce?
Jul. Host, will you go? Host. Gone to seek his dog; which, lo-morrow, Host. By my halidom, I was fast asleep. by his master's command, he must carry for a pre Jul. Pray you, where lies sir Proteus ? sent to his lady.
Host. Marry, at my house. Trust me, I think, Jul. Peace! stand aside: the company parts.
'tis almost day. Pro. Sir Thurio, fear not you: I will so plead, Jul. Not so; but it hath been the longest night That you shall say my cunning drift excels. That e'er I watch'd, and the most heaviest. Thu. Where meet we?
[Exeunt. Pro. At saint Gregory's well. Thu. Farewell.
SCENE III.-The Same.
Egl. This is the hour that madam Silvia
Sil. I thank you for your music, gentlemen. There's some great matter she'd employ me in.Who is that, that spake ?
Enter Silvia above, at her window.
Sil. Who calls ? Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. Egl.
Your servant, and your friend; Sil. What is your will ?
One that attends your ladyship's command. Pro.
That I may compass yours. Sil. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good morSil. You have your wish: my will is even this, That presently you hie you home to bed.
Egl. As many, worthy lady, to yourself. Thou subtle, perjur'd, false, disloyal man!
According to your ladyship's impose, Think'st thou, I am so shallow, so conceitless, I am thus early come, to know what service To be seduced by thy flattery,
It is your pleasure to command me in. That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows ?
sil. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman, Return, return, and make thy love amends.
Think not I flatter, for I swear I do not, For me, by this pale queen of night I swear, Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplish'd. I am so far from granting thy request,
Thou art not ignorant what dear good will That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit,
I bear unto the banish'd Valentine; And by and by intend to chide myself,
Nor how my father would enforce me marry Even for this time I spend in talking to thee. Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhorr'd.
Pro. I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady; Thyself hast lov’d; and I have heard thee say, But she is dead.
No grief did ever come so near thy heart, Jul. (Aside.] 'Twere false, if I should speak it; As when thy lady and thy true love died, For, I am sure, she is not buried.
Upon whose grave thou vow'dst pure chastity. Sil. Say, that she be; yet Valentine, thy friend, Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine, Survives, to whom thyself art witness
To Mantua, where, I hear, he makes abode; I am betroth’d; and art thou not asham'd
for the ways are dangerous to pass, To wrong him with thy importunacy?
I do desire thy worthy company,
Sil. And so, suppose, am I; for in his grave, Urge not my father's anger, Eglamour,
But think upon my grief, a lady's grief ; Pro. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth. And on the justice of my flying hence,
Sil. Go to thy lady's grave, and call her's thence; To keep me from a most unholy match, Or, at the least, in her's sepulchre thine.
Which heaven and fortune still reward with plagues. Jul. (Aside.) He heard not that.
I do desire thee, even from a heart
Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances; Is else devoted, I am but a shadow,
Which since I know they virtuously are placid, And to your shadow will I make true love.
I give consent to go along with you ; Jul. (Aside.] If 'twere a substance, you would, Recking as little what betideth me, sure, deceive it,
As much I wish all good befortune you. And make it but a shadow, as I am.
When will you go? Sil. I am very loth to be your idol, sir;
This evening coming.
At friar Patrick's cell, Send to me in the morning, and I'll send it. Where I intend holy confession. And so, good rest.
Egl. I will not fail your ladyship. Good morrow, Pro.
As wretches have o'er night, Gentle lady. That wait for execution in the morn.
Sil. Good morrow, kind sir Eglamour. [Ereunt PROTEUS, and Silvia.
SCENE IV.-The Same.
steals her capon's leg. O! 'tis a foul thing, when
a cur cannot keep himself in all companies. I would Enter LAUNCE with his dog.
have, as one should say, one that takes upon bim Launce. When a man's servant shall play the cur to be a dog indeed, to be, as it were, a dog at all with him, look you, it goes hard: one that I brought things. If I had not had more wit than he, to up of a puppy; one that I saved from drowning, take a fault upon me that he did, I think verily, he when three or four of his blind brothers and sisters had been hang'd for't: sure as I live, he had sufwent to it. I have taught him, even as one would fer’d for't. You shall judge. He thrusts me himsay precisely, thus I would teach a dog. I was sent self into the company of three or four gentlemanto deliver him as a present to mistress Silvia from like dogs under the duke's table: he had not been my master, and I came no sooner into the dining- there (bless the mark) a pissing while, but all the chamber, but he steps me to her trencher, and | 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 Jul. In what you please: I will do what I can. duke. I, having been acquainted with the smell Pro. I hope thou wilt.—How, now, you whorebefore, knew it was Crab, and goes me to the fellow son peasant ! that whips the dogs : “ Friend,” quoth I, “you Where have you been these two days loitering? mean to whip the dog.” “Ay, marry, do I,” quoth Launce. Marry, sir, I carried mistress Silvia the he. “You do him the more wrong," quoth I; dog you bade me. “ 'twas I did the thing you wot of." He makes Pro. And what says she to my little jewel ? me no more ado, but whips me out of the chamber. Launce. Marry, she says, your dog was a cur; How many masters would do this for his servant ? and tells you, currish thanks is good enough for Nay, I'll be sworn, I have sat in the stocks for pud such a present. dings he hath stolen, otherwise he had been execu
Pro. But she receiv'd my dog ? ted: I have stood on the pillory for geese he hath Launce. No, indeed, did she not. Here have I kill'd, otherwise he had suffer'd for't: thou think'st brought him back again. not of this now.–Nay, I remember the trick you Pro. What! didst thou offer her this from me ? served me,
when I took my leave of madam Silvia. Launce. Ay, sir: the other squirrel was stolen Did not I bid thee still mark me, and do as I do? from me by the hangman's boys in the marketWhen didst thou see me heave up my leg, and place; and then I offer'd her mine own, who is a make water against a gentlewoman's farthingale ? | dog as big as ten of yours, and therefore the gift Didst thou ever see me do such a trick ?
Pro. Go; get thee hence, and find my dog Enter Proteus and Julia.
again, Pro. Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well, Or ne'er return again into my sight.