Should have been cherish'd by her child-like duty, Wilt thou reach stars because they shine on thee
I now am full resolved to take a wife,
And turn her out to who will take her in:
Then let her beauty be her wedding dower;
For me and my possessions she esteems not.

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
Now she opposes her against my will.

Pro. She did, my lord, when Valentine was here.
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 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:
Therefore the office is indifferent,

Being entreated to it by your friend.

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 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 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 concert: to their instruments
Tune a deploring dump; the night's dead silence
Will well become such sweet complaining griev

ance.

Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord: if I can do it, This, or else nothing, will inherit her.

By aught that I can speak in his dispraise,

She shall not long continue love to him.

But. say this weed her love from Valentine,

It follows not that she will love sir Thurio.

Thu. And thy advice this night I'll put in practice. Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver,

Thu. Therefore, as you unwind her love from him, Let us into the city presently

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,

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.
[Exeunt.

SCENE I.- A Forest near Mantua.
Enter certain Out-laws.

ACT IV.

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

Enter VALENTINE and SPEED.

3 Out. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about you;

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

Speel. Sir, we are undone! these are the villains That all the travelers 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.

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

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

3 Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar.
This fellow were a king for our wild faction.
2 Out. We'll have him: sirs, a word.
Speed. Master, be one of them;

It is an honorable kind of thievery.
Val. Peace, villain!

2 Out. Tell us this: have you anything to take
to ?

Val. Nothing, but my fortune.

3 Out. Know then, that some of us are gentlemen,

Val. Then know that I have little wealth to lose; Such as the fury of ungoverned youth

A man I am, cross'd with adversity:

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?

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,
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,)

Val. Some sixteen months; and longer might And, partly, seeing you are beautified

have staid,

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 mar
Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you:
Are you content to be our general?"

Birdlime. • Mournful elegy. Choose out. 1 Languages. 2 Lawful. Anger, resentment

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!

Fay, ay, and be the captain of us all:
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

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.

[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 color 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 window,
And give some evening music to her ear.

Enter THURIO and Musicians.

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

Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio; for you know, that love
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 hence.
Thu. Whom? Silvia?

Pro. Ay, Silvia, for your sake.

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. 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 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 present 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 Musiciar.s

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?

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 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!

Thu. I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen, Return, return, and make thy love amends. Let's tune, and to it lustily a while.

Enter Hosr, at a distance; and JULIA in boy's 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 gen-
Eleman that you ask'd 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.

SONG.

Who is Silvia? What is she?

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 betrothed: And art thou not ashamn'd

[Music plays. To wrong him with thy maportúnacy?

That all our swains commend her ? Holy, fair, and wise is she;

The heavens such grace did lend her, That she might almired be.

Is she kind, as she is fair?

For beauty lives with kindness: Love doth to her eurs repair.

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

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.

4 Passionate reproaches.

Pro. 1 likewise hear, that Valentine is dead.
Sil. And so, suppose, am 1; 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 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, de
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.
[Exeunt PROTEUS, and SILVIA from above,
Beyond all reckoning.

Jul. Host, will you go?

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

Jul. Not so; but it hath been the longest night
That e'er I watch'd, and the most heaviest. [Exeunt.

SCENE III- The same.

Enter Eglamour.

Egl. This is the hour that madam Silvia Entreated me to call and know her mind; There's some great matter she'd employ me in. — Madam, madam!

Sil. Egl.

SILVIA appears above, ai her window.

Who calls?

Your servant, and your friend;
One that attends your ladyship's command.
Sil. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good-mor-

row.

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 I flatter, for I swear I do not.)
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, 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 honor 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,

dogs, under the duke's table: he nad not been there (bless the mark!) a pissing while; but all the chan ber smelt him. Out with the dog, says one; What cur is that? says another; Whip him out, says tha third; Hung him up, says the duke. 1, 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 1, quoth he. You do him the mor wrong. quoth 1; was 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 ma 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 1 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 market-place: 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,

Which heaven and fortune still reward with plagues. Or ne'er return again into my sight.

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.

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 behavior;
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 :

At friar Patrick's cell, She loved me well, deliver'd it to me.

Where I intend holy confession.
Eg'. I will not fail your ladyship:
Good-morrow, gentle lady.

Jul. It seems you loved her not, to leave her token:

Sil. Good-morrow, kind sir Eglamour. [Exeunt. She's dead, belike.

Enter LAUNCE, with his dog.

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 curI 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 Holy dame, blessed lady. Injunction, command. •Compassionate.

་

Caring.

Restrain.

Pro.

Jul. Alas!

Not so; I think, she lives.

Pro. Why dost thou cry, alas?
Jul. I cannot choose but pity her
Pro. Wherefore shouldst thou pity her!
Jul. Because, methinks, that she lov'd you as well
As you do love your lady Silvia;
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
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
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;
In the end.