Lest it should ravel, and be good to none,
You must provide to bottom it on me :
Which must be done, by praising me as much
As you in worth dispraise Sir Valentine.
Duke. And, Proteus, we dare trust you in
this 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 per

To hate young Valentine, and love my friend.
Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect:
But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough;
You must lay lime, + to tangle her desires,
By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes
Should be full fraught with serviceable vows.
Duke. Ay, much 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

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'd quickly learn to know him by his voice.
Sil. Sir Proteus, as I take it.

Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and

servant.

Sil. What is your will?

Pro. That I may compass your's.

Sil. You have your wish; my will is this,

your

That presently you hie you home to bed.
Thou subtle, perjur'd, false, disloyal man!
Think'st thou, I am so shallow, so conceitless,
To be seduced by thy flattery,

Egl. Your servant, and your friend ;

One that attends your ladyship's command.
Sil. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times goed.

morrow.

Egl. As many, worthy lady, to yourself.
According to your ladyship's impose,

I am thus early come, to know what service
It is your pleasure to command me in.
Sil. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman,
(Think not 1 flatter, for, I swear, I do not,)
even Valiant, wise, remorseful, + well accomplish'd.
Thou art not ignorant, what dear good will
I bear unto the banish'd Valentine;
Nor how my father would enforce me marry
Vain Thurio, who my very soul abhorr'd.
Thyself hast lov'd; and I have heard thee say,
No grief did ever come so near thy heart,
As when thy lady and thy true love died,"
Upon whose grave thou vow'dst pure chastity.
Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine,
To Mantua, where I hear he makes abode;
And, for the ways are dangerous to pass,
I do desire thy worthy company,
Upon whose faith and bonour I repose.
Urge not my father's auger, Eglamour,
But think upon my grief, a lady's grief;
And on the justice of my flying hence,
To keep me from a most unholy match,
Which heaven and fortune still reward with
plagues.

That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows ?
Return, return, and make thy love amends.
For me, by this pale queen of night I swear,
I am so far from granting thy request,
That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit;
And by and by intend to chide myself,
Even for this time I spend in talking to thee.
Pro. I grant, sweet love, that I did love a
lady;

But she is dead.

Jul. 'Twere false if I should speak it; For, I am sure, she is not buried.

[Aside.

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 importúnacy?

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. He heard not that.

[Aside.

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 I will make true love.
Jul. if 'twere a substance, you would, sure,
deceive it,

And make it but a shadow, as I am.

[Aside.

Sil. I am very loath to be your idol, Sir;
But, since your falsehood shall become you
well

To worship shadows, and adore false shapes,
Send to me in the morning, and I'll send it:
And so good rest.

Pro. As wretches have o'er night,
That wait for execution in the morn.

I do desire thee, even from a heart
As full of sorrows as the sea of sands,
To bear me company, and go with me:
If not, to hide what I have said to thee,
That I may venture to depart alone.

Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances;
Which since I know they virtuously are plac'd,
I give consent to go along with you;
Recking as little what betideth me,
As much I wish all good befortune you.
When will you go?

Sil. This evening coming.
Egl. Where shall I meet you?
Sil. At friar Patrick's cell,
Where I intend holy confession.
Egl. I will not fail your ladyship:
Good-morrow, gentle lady.

Sil. Good-morrow, kind Slr Eglamour.

SCENE IV.-The same.

Enter LAUNCE, with his dog.

[Exeunt.

Laun. 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

[Exeunt PROTEUS; and SILVIA from into the dining chamber, but he steps me to her

above.

Jul. Host, will you go?

Host. By my hallidom, I was fast asleep. Jul. Pray you, where lies Sir Proteus? Host. Marry, at my house: Trust me, think, 'tis almost day.

Jul. Not so; but it hath been the longest

night

trencher, and steals her capon's leg. Oh! 'tis a foul thing, when a cur cannot keep him. self 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 bad been hanged for't: sure as I live, he had suffered for't: yon 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 the third; Hang him up, says the duke. 1, having been in.-acquainted with the smell before, knew it was Crab; and goes me to the fellow that whips the dogs Friend, quoth 1, you mean to whip the dog! Ay, marry, do 1, quoth be. You do him the more wrong, quoth 1; 'twas I did • Injunction. + Pitiful. * Caring.

SILVIA appears above, at her window. Sil. Who calls ?

Holy dame, blessed lady.

& Restrain.

me,

the thing you wot of. He makes me no more | A fox, to be shepherd of thy lambs; ado, but whips me out of the chamber. How Alas, poor fool! why do I pity him many masters would do this for their servant? That with his very heart despiseth me? Nay, I'll be sworn, I have sat in the stocks for Because he loves her, he despiseth me; puddings he hath stolen, otherwise he had been Because I love him, I must pity him. executed I have stood on the pillory for geese This ring I gave him, when he parted from he hath killed, otherwise he had suffered for't; thou think'st not of this now !-Nay, I remem-To bind him to remember my good will: ber the trick you served me, when I took my Aud now am I (unhappy messenger) leave of madam Silvia; did not I bid thee still To plead for that, which I would not obtain; mark me, and do as I do? When didst thou see To carry that which I would have refus'd me heave up my leg, and make water against To praise his faith, which I would have dis prais'd. a gentlewoman's fartingale? 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 ;-I 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 present.

Pro. But she received my dog?

Laun. No, indeed, she did not: here have I brought him back again.

Pro. What, did'st 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 your's, and therefore the gift the greater.

Pro. Go, get thee hence, and find my dog
Or ne'er return again into my sight. [again,
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 this 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.

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

via.

Sil. What would you with her, if that I be she?

Jul. If you be she, I do entreat your pa-
tience

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; 1 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,

Jul. It seems, you loved her not, to leave her His Julia gave it him at his departure:

token:

She's dead, belike.

Pro. Not so; I think she lives.

Jul. Alas!

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 loved you as well

As you do love your lady Silvia :

She dreams on him, that tras 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 there-
withal

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 PROTEUS.
Jul. How many women would do such a

message?

Alas, poor Proteus! thou hast entertain'd]

In the end.

Though his false finger bath 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 ber:

my master wrongs her

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 a hundred several times.
Sil. Belike, she thinks that Proteus hath for-
sook her.

Jul. I think she doth, and that's aer cause of

708

THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA.

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 inade 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 there withal,
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; I give thee this
For thy sweet mistress' sake, because thou lov'st
ber.

Farewell.

[Exit SILVIA.

Jul. And she shall thank you for't, if e'er you
know her.-

A virtuous gentlewoman, mild, and beautiful.
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 fiatter 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 1.-The same.-An Abbey.
Enter EGLAMOUR.

[Exit.

Egl. The sun begins to gild the western sky;
And now, it is about the very hour

Tha. Silvia, at 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 spur their expedition.

Pro. No; that it is too little.

Act V.

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.

Thu. But better, indeed, when you hold your
[Aside.
peace.

Thu. What says she to my valour?
Pro. O Sir, she makes no doubt of that.
Jul. She needs not, when she knows it cow-

ardice.

[Aside.

Thu. What says she to my birth?
Pro. That you are well deriv'd.
Jul. True; from a gentleman to a fool.

[Aside:

Jul. That such an ass should owe them.

Pro. That they are out by lease.
Jul. Here comes the duke.

Enter DUKE.

[Aside.

Duke. How now, Sir Proteus? how now,
Thurio?

Which of you saw Sir Eglamour of late?
Thu. Not I.

Pro. Not I.

Duke. Saw you my daughter?

Pro. Neither.

Duke. Why, then she's filed unto that peasant And Eglamour is in her company.

[Valentine;

'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:
[not:
Besides, she did intend confession
At Patrick's cell this even: and there she was
These likelihoods confirm her flight from hence.
Therefore, I pray you, stand not to discourse,
But mount you presently; and meet with me
[fled:
Upon the rising of the mountain foot
That leads towards Mantua, whither they are
Despatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me.