3 Out. Being nimble footed, he hath outrun | And that's far worse than none; better have us,

But Moyses, and Valerius, follow him.

Go thou with her to the west end of the wood,
There is our captain: we'll follow him that's

fled;

The thicket is beset, he cannot 'scape.

1 Out. Come, I must bring you to our cap-
tain's cave :

Fear not; he bears an honourable mind,
And will not use a woman lawlessly.

Sil. O Valentine, this I endure for thee!

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.—Another part of the Forest.

Enter VALENTINE.

Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man!
This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,
I better brook than flourishing peopled towns:
Here can I sit alone unseeu of any,
And, to the nightingale's complaining notes,
Tune my distresses, and record my woes.
O thou, that dost inhabit in my breast,
Leave not the mansion so long tenantless;
Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall,
And leave no memory of what it was!
Repair me with thy presence, Silvia;
Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain!
What balloing, and what stir, is this to-day?
These are my mates, that make their wills their
law,

Have some unhappy passenger in chase:
They love me well; yet I have much to do,
To keep them from uncivil outrages.
Withdraw thee, Valentine; who's this comes
here?
[Steps aside.

Enter PROTEUS, SILVIA, and JULIA.
Pro. Madam, this service I have done for you,
(Though you respect not aught your servant
doth,)

To hazard life, and rescue you from him
That would have forc'd your honour and your
love.

Vouchsafe me, for my meed, but one fair look;
A smaller boon than this I cannot beg,
And less than this, I am sure, you cannot give.
Val. How like a dream is this I see
hear!

Love, lend me patience to forbear awhile.

and

[Aside.

Sil. O miserable, unhappy that I am!
Pro. Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came;
But, by my coming, I have made you happy.
Sil. By thy approach thou mak'st me most un-
happy.

Jul. And me, when he approacheth to your
presence.
[Aside.
Sil. Had I been seized by a hungry lion,
I would have been a breakfast to the beast,
Rather than have false Proteus rescue me.
O heaven be judge, how I love Valentine,
Whose life's as tender to me as my soul;
And full as much (for more there cannot be,)
I do detest false perjur'd Proteus :
Therefore be gone, solicit me no more.

Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to
death,

Would I not undergo for one calm look ?
Oh! 'tis the curse in love, and still approv'd.
When women cannot love where they're belov'd.
Sil. When Proteus cannot love where he's be-
lov'd.

Read over Julia's heart, thy first best love,

none

Than plural faith, which is too much by one:
Thou counterfeit to thy true friend!
Pro. In love,

Who respects friend!

Sil. All men but Proteus.

Pro. Nay, if the gentle spirit of moving words
Can no way change you to a milder form,
I'll woo you like a soldier, at arms' end;

And love you 'gainst the nature of love, force
you.

Sil. O heaven!

'Mongst all foes, that a friend should be the
worst!

Pro. My shame and guilt confounds me.--
Forgive me, Valentine: if hearty sorrow
Be a sufficient ransom for offence,

I tender it here; I do as truly suffer,
As e'er I did commit.

Val. Then I am paid;

And once again I do receive thee honest:-
Who by repentance is not satisfied,

Is nor of heaven, nor earth; for these are
pleas'd;

By penitence the Eternal's wrath's appeas'd :-
And, that my love may appear plain and free,
All that was mine in Silvia, I give thee.
Jul. O me, unhappy!
Pro. Look to the boy.

[Faints.

Pro. How! let me see :
Why this is the ring I gave to Julia.
Jul. O cry your mercy, Sir, I have mistook;
This is the ring you sent to Silvia.

[Shows another ring. Pro. But, how cam'st thou by this ring? at my depart,

I gave this unto Julia.

Jul. And Julia herself did give it me;
And Julia herself hath brought it hither.
Pro. How! Julia!

Jul. Behold her that gave aim to all thy
oaths,

And entertain'd them deeply in her heart :
How oft hast thou with perjury cleft the root ? +
O Proteus, let this babit make thee blush!
Be thou asham'd, that I have took upon me
Such an immodest raiment; if shame live
In a disguise of love:

For whose dear sake thou did'st then rend thy It is the lesser blot, modesty finds,

faith

Women to change their shapes, than men their minds.

Pro. Than men their minds? 'tis true: 0 heaven! were man

But constant, he were perfect: that one error

• Direction.

An allusion to cleaving the pin in archery

Fills him with faults; makes him run through Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again.

LOVE'S LABOUR'S LOST.

LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE.

SHAKSPEARE'S first draught of this trifling play, (which all the editors have concurred in censuring, and some have rejected as unworthy of its author) was written in or before 1594, and some additions were probably made to it between that year and 1597, when it was exhibited before Queen Elizabeth. Like the Taming of the Shrew, it was undoubtedly one of his earliest essays to dramatic writing; as the frequent rhymes, the imperfect versification, the artless and desultory dialogue, and the irregularity of the composition, sufficiently prove. The fable does not seem to be a work entirely of invention; and perhaps owes its birth to some novel which has yet to be discovered. The character of Armado bears some resemblance to Don Quixotte, but the play is older than the work of Cervantes; of Holofernes, another singular character, there are some traces in a masque of Sir Philip Sidney, presented before Queen Elizabeth at Wansted. Dr. Johnson says, that in this play "there are many passages mean, childish, and vulgar; and some which ought not to have been exhibited, as we are told they were, to a maiden Queen. But there are scattered through the whole mauy sparks of genius; nor is there any play that has more evident marks of the hand of Shakspeare."

SCENEI.-Navarre.—A Park, with a Palace That his own hand may strike his honour down,

in it.

Enter the KING, BIRON, LONGAVILLE, and

DUMAIN.

King. Let fame, that all hunt after in their
lives,

Live register'd upon our brazen tombs,
And then grace us in the disgrace of death;
When, spite of cormorant devouring time,
The endeavour of this present breath may buy
That honour, which shall bate his scythe's keen
edge,

And make us heirs of all eternity.
Therefore, brave conquerors!-for so you are,
That war against your own affections,
And the huge army of the world's desires,-
Our late edict shall strongly stand in force:
Navarre shall be the wonder of the world;
Our court shall be a little Academe,
Still and contemplative in living art.
You three, Biron, Dumain, and Longaville,
Have sworn for three years' term to live with

me,

My fellow-scholars, and to keep those statutes
That are recorded in this schedule here:

That violates the smallest branch herein:
If you are arm'd to do, as sworn to do,
Subscribe to your deep oath, and keep it too.
Long. I am resolv'd: 'tis but a three years'

fast;

The mind shall banquet, though the body pine:
Fat paunches have lean pates; and dainty bits
Make rich the ribs, but bank'rout quite the

wits.

Dum. My loving lord, Dumain is mortified;
The grosser manner of these world's delights
He throws upon the gross world's baser slaves :
To love, to wealth, to pomp, I pine and die;
With all these living in philosophy.

Biron. I can but say their protestation over,
So much, dear liege, I have already sworn,
That is, To live and study here three years,
But there are other strict observances:
As, not to see a woman in that term ;
Which, I hope well, is not enrolled there :
And, one day in a week to touch no food;
And but one meal on every day beside;
The which, I hope, is not enrolled there :
And then, to sleep but three hours in the night,
And not be seen to wink of all the day;