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Laun. Well; the best is, she hath no teeth to bite. Speed. Item, She will often praise her liquor. Laun. If the liquor be good, she shall: if she will not, I will; for good things should be praised. Speed. Item, She is too liberal.

Laun. Of her tongue she cannot; for that's writ down she is slow of: of her purse she shall not; for that I'll keep shut: now, of another thing she may; and that I cannot help. Well, proceed.

Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit, and more faults than hairs, and more wealth than faults. Laun. Stop there; I'll have her she was mine, and not mine, twice or thrice in that last article: rehearse that once more.

Speed. Item, She hath more hair than wit.Laun. More hair than wit,-it may be; I'll prove it: the cover of the salt hides the salt, and therefore it is more than the salt; the hair that covers the wit, is more than the wit; for the What's next? greater hides the less. Speed. And more faults than hairs.— Laun. That's monstrous: O, that that were out! Speed. And more wealth than faults.

Laun. Why, that word makes the faults gracious: well, I'll have her and if it be a match, as nothing is impossible,—

Speed. What then?

Laun. Why, then I will tell thee,-that thy She shall not long continue love to him. master stays for thee at the north-gate.

Speed. For me?

Laun. For thee? ay: who art thou? he hath staid for a better man than thee.

Speed. And must I go to him?

Laun. Thou must run to him, for thou hast
staid so long, that going will scarce serve the turn.
Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner? 'pox of
your love-letters?
[exit.
Laun. Now will he be swinged for reading my
letter: an unmannerly slave, that will thrust
himself into secrets!—I'll after, to rejoice in the
boy's correction.
[exit

SCENE II. THE SAME. A ROOM IN THE DUKE'S
PALACE.

Enter Duke and Thurio; Proteus behind. Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not, but that she will love you,

Duke. Thou know'st now 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. [here.
Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was
Duke. Ay, and perversely she persévers 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
Pro. Ay, if his enemy deliver it; [hate.
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 loath to do
'Tis an ill office for a gentleman;
Especially, against his very friend.

[him,

Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage
Your slander never can endamage him;
Therefore the office is indifferent,
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,

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 figur
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.

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But say, this weed her love from Valentine,
It follows not that she will love sir Thurio.

Thu. Therefore as you unwind her love from
Lest it should ravel, and do good to none, [him,
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
Because we know, on Valentine's report, [kind ;
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
Where you may temper her, by your persuasion,
To hate young Valentine, and love my friend.

you;

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 rhimes
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 poet's 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 concert: to their instruments
Tune a deploring dump: the night's dead silence
Will well become such sweet complaining griev-
This, or else nothing, will inherit her. [ance.

Duke. This discipline shows thou hast been in | To give the onset to thy good advice.

love.

[practice :
Thu. And thy advice this night I'll put in
Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver,
Let us into the city presently,

To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music: 1 have a sonnet, that will serve the turn,

ACT

SCENE I. A FOREST, NEAR MANTUA.
Enter certain Outlaws.

1 Out. Fellows, stand fast: I see a passenger.
2 Out. If there be ten, shrink not, but down
with 'em.

IV.

2 Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Whom, 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 beautified

Enter Valentine and Speed.

3 Out. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have 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
Say, ay, and be the captain of us all : [consórt ?
We'll do thee homage, and be rul'd 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

about you;

If not, we'll make you sit, and rifle you.

Speed. Sir, we are undone, these are the villains That all the travellers do fear so much.

Val. My friends.

1 Out. That's not so, sir; we are your enemies. 2 Out. Peace, we'll hear him.

3 Out. Ay, by my beard, will we

For he's a proper man.

Val. Then know, that I have little wealth to
A man I am, cross'd with adversity: [lose;

My riches are these poor habiliments,
Of which if you should here disfurnish me,
You take the sum and substance that I have.

2 Out: Whither travel you?

Val. To Verona.

1 Out. Whence came you?

Val. From Milan.

3 Out. Have you long sojourn'd there?
Val. Some sixteen months; and longer might
have staid,

If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.
1 Out. What, were you banish'd thence?
Val. I was.

2 Out. For what offence?

Val. For that which now torments me to rehearse;
I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent;
But yet I slew him manfully in fight,
Without false vantage, or base treachery.

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 in such a doom.
1 Out. Have you the tongues?

Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy; Or else I often had been miserable. [friar,

3 Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat
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.

[men,

3 Out. Know then, that some of us are gentle-
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.

[per:

Duke. About it, gentlemen.
Pro. We'll wait upon your grace till after sup.
And afterward determine our proceedings.
Duke. Even now about it: I will pardon you.

[exeunt.

On silly women, or poor passengers.

3 Out. No, we detest such vile buse 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.

[exeunt.

SCENE II. MILAN. 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 prefer;
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 win-
And give some evening music to her ear. [dow,
Enter Thurio and Musicians.

Thu. How now, sir Proteus? are you crept
before us?
[love

Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio; for, you know that
Will creep in service where it cannot go.

Thu. Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here.
Pro. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hono

Thu. Whom? Silvia? 4

Pro. Ay, Silvia-for your sake.

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Thu. I thank you for your own.-Now, gentle-
Let's tune, and to it lustily a-while. [men,
Enter Host, at a distance; and Julia, in boy's clothes.
Host. Now, my young guest! methinks you're
ycholly; I pray you, why is it? [merry.
Jul. Marry, mine host, because I cannot be
Host. Come, we'll have you merry: I'll bring
you where you shall hear music, and see the gen-
Leman that you asked for.

Jul. But shall I hear him speak?
Host. Ay, that you shall.
Jul. That will be music.
Host. Hark! hark!
Jul. Is he among these?
Host. Ay, but peace, let's hear 'em.

Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady; and your servant
Sil. What is your will?

Pro. That I may compass yours.

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

[music plays. 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.

SONG.
Who is Silvia? what is she,

That all our swains commend her?
Holy fair, and wise, is she;
The heavens such grace did lend her,
That she might admired be.

Is she kind, as she is fair?

For beauty lives with kindness:
Love doth to her eyes repair,

To help him of his blindness;
And, being help'd, inhabits there.

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Then to Silvia let us sing,

That Silvia is excelling;

She excels each mortal thing,

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.
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. [a slow heart.
Jul. Ay, I would I were deaf! it makes me have
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. [one thing? Host. You would have them always play but 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 loved 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 preent to his lady.

Jul. Peace! stand aside; the company parts. Pro. Sir Thurio, fear not you! I will so plead, That you shall say, my cunning drift excels.

Thu. Where meet we?

Pro. At Saint Gregory's well.

Thu. Farewell. [exeunt Thurio and Musicians.
Silvia appears above, at her window.

Pro. Madam, good even to your ladyship.

Sil. I thank you for your music, gentlemen: Who is that, that spake?

[truth,

Pro. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's You'd quickly learn to know him by his voice.

Sil. Sir Proteus, as I take it.

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.

[asida

Pro. Madam, if your heart be so obdúrate,
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, des

ceive it,

And make it but a shadow as I am.

[aside.

Sil. I am very loth 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.

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Sil. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good-mor-
Egl. As many, worthy lady, to yourself. [row.
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 I flatter, for I swear, I do not,)
Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplished.
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, whom 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 honour I repose.
Urge not my father's anger, 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.
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 Sir Eglamour.

[exeunt.

SCENE IV. THE SAME.

Enter Launce, with his dog.

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 into the dining-chamber, 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 hanged for't; sure as I live, he had suffered for't: you 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. 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 their 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 killed, otherwise he had suffered 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? 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, didst thou offer her this from me? Laun. Ay, sir; the other squirrel was stolen from me by the hangman's boys in the marketplace and then I offered 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 înto my sight. 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 in thee.
Go presently, and take this ring with thee,
Deliver it to madam Silvia:

She loved me well, deliver'd it to me.

Jul. It seems you lov'd her not, to leave her She's dead, belike. [token:

Pro. Not so; I think, she lives.
Jul. Alas!

Pro. Why dost thou cry, alas?

Sil. What say'st thou?

Jul. I thank you, madam, that you tender her: Poor gentlewoman! my master wrongs her much 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 an hundred several times. Sil. Belike, she thinks that Proteus hath forsook her. [sorrow. Jul. I think she doth, and that's her cause of Sil. Is she not passing fair?

Jul. She hath been fairer, madam, than she is: When she did think my master lov'd her well, She, in my judgment, was as fair as you; But since she did neglect her looking-glass, And threw her sun-expelling mask away, The air hath starv'd the roses in her cheeks, And pinch'd the lily-tincture of her face, That now she is become as black as I.

Jul. I cannot choose but pity her.

Fro. Wherefore should'st thou pity her?
Jul. Because, methinks, that she lov'd you as
As you do love your lady Silvia :
[well

She dreams on him, that has 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 therewithal 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 Pro. Jul. How many women would do such a message!

Alas! poor Proteus! thou hast entertain'd
A fox, to be the shepherd of thy lambs:
Alas, poor fool! why do I pity him
That with his very heart despiseth me?
Because he loves her, he despiseth 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 am I (unhappy messenger)

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 disprais'd.
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 mean
To bring me where to speak with madam Silvia.
Sil. What would you with her, if that I be she?
Jul. If you be she, I do entreat your patience
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.

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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
As easily as I do tear his paper.
[break,

Jul. Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring.
Sil. The more shame for him that he sends it
For, I have heard him say a thousand times, [me;
His Julia gave it him at his departure:
Though his false finger hath profan'd the ring,
Mine shall not do his Julia so much wrong.
Jul. She thanks you.

Sil. How tall was she?

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 serv'd 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 made 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 therewithal, 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
her.

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 flatter 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 gray 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.

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