The Plays of William Shakspeare, Accurately Printed from the Text of the Corrected Copies, Left by the Late George Steevens, and Edmond Malone, with a Sketch of His Life, and a Glossary. New Ed. Rev

SCENE II.-The same.

that thy Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage

him,

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.

A Room in the Duke's Palace.

Enter DUKE and THURIO; PROTEUS behind. Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not, but that she will love you, Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight.

Thu. Since his exíle 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 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.

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.

Po. 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 falshood, 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 frien

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, 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. Therefore, as you unwind her love from him, 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 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 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 grievance.
This, or else nothing, will inherit her.

Duke. This discipline shows thou hast been in love.

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ACT IV.

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,

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 gentle

men,

Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth
Thrust from the company of awful men :
Myself was from Verona banish'd,
For practising to steal away a lady,
An heir, and near allied unto the duke.

That they may hold excus'd our lawless lives,)
And, partly, seeing you are beautified
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 consórt?

Say, 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 shew thee all the treasure we have got; Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose.

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 falshood 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 musick to her ear.

Enter THURIO and Musicians.

[Exeunt

Host. I perceive, you delight not in musick.

Jul. Not a whit, when it jars so.

Host. Hark, what fine change is in the musick! Jul. Ay; that change is the spite. 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 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.

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,

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

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. Ilikewise 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 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

Aside.

ceive it, And make it but a shadow, as I am.

Sil. I am very loth to be your idol, sir; But, since your falshood 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. 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, 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.-
Enter EGLAMOUR.

Egt. 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!

SILVIA appears above, at her window.

Sil. Who calls?

Egl. Your servant, and your nieno One that attends your ladyship's command.

Sil. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good-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, 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 loved; and 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?

whip the dog? Ay, marry, do I, quoth he. You do
kim 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,
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 did'st thou see
me heave up my leg, and make water against a gen-
tlewoman's farthingale? didst thou ever see me do
such a trick?

SCENE IV. – The same.

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 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 a 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

Sil.

This evening coming. Egl. Where shall I meet you?

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.

Sil.
At friar Patrick's cell,
Where I intend holy confession.

Egl. I will not fail your ladyship:
Good-morrow, gentle lady.

Pro. Go, get thee hence, and find my dog again,
Or ne'er return again into my sight.
Away, I say: Stay'st thou to vex me here?

Sil. Good-morrow, kind sir Eglamour. [Exeunt. A slave, that, still an end, turns me to shame.
[Exit LAUNCE.

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?

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.

Jul. It seems, you loved her not, to leave her
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 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 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;
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.

Sil. Belike, she thinks that Proteus hatlı forsook her.

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

sorrow.

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. 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 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 made her weep a-good,
For I did play a lamentable part;
Madam, 'twas Ariadne, passioning
For Theseas' 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 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.

[Evil

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The Plays of William Shakspeare, Accurately Printed from the Text of the ...