Because I ove him, I must pity him.
This ring I gave him, when he parted from me,
To bind hiri 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. Jul. Madam, please you peruse this letter.Pardon me, madam; I 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,
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. 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 woès, I do protest, That I have wept a hundred several times. Sil. Belike, she thinks that Proteus hath 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, thar, she is: When she did think my master loved 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 1.

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 judgme 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 fight; 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 color'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.

Exit.

SCENE II- The same. An Apartment in the

Duke's Palace.

Enter THURIO, PROTEUS, and JULIA. Thu. Sir Proteus, what says Silvia to my suit? Pro. O, sir, I find her milder than she was; And yet she takes exceptions at your person. Thu. What, that my leg is too long?

Pro. No; that it is too little.

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 1s Black men are pearls in beat teous ladies' eyes, Jul. 'Tis true; such pearls as put out ladies" eyes a Whitsuntide. In go. earnest Пlead-dress. $ Own

Thu. But well, when I discourse of love, and peace?

Jul. But better, indeed, when you hold your

[Asile.

Jul. She needs not, when she knows it cowardice.
[Aside.
Thu. What says she to my birth?
Pro. That you are well derived.
Jul. True; from a gentleman to a fool.
Thu. Considers she my possessions?
Pro. O, ay; and pities them.

Thu. Wherefore?

And less than this, I am sure, you cannot give. Val. How like a dream is this I see and hear!

Jul. Here comes the duke.

Enter DUKE.

Pro.

Duke. How now, sir Proteus? how now, Which of you saw sir Eglamour of late? Thu. Not I. Nor I.

Thurio?

Duke.

Pro.

Saw you my daughter?
Neither.

Duke. Why, then, she's fled unto that peasant
Valentine;

And Eglamo ir is in her company.

'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:
Besides, she did intend confession

At Patrick's cell this even; and there she was not:
These likelihoods confirm her flight from hence.
Therefore, I pray you, stand not to discourse,
But mount you presently; and meet with me
Upon the rising of the mountain foot

[Exit.

That leads towards Mantua, whither they are fled:
Despatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me.
Thu. Why, this it is to be a peevish girl,
That flies her fortune when it follows her:
I'll after; more to be revenged on Eglamour,
Than for the love of reckless," Silvia.
Pro. And I will follow, more for Silvia's love,

[Exit.

Thin hate of Eglamour, that goes with her. Exit.

Jul. And I will follow, more to cross that love, Than hate for Silvia, that is gone for love. [Exit. SCENE III.-- Frontiers of Mantua. The Forest. Enter SILVIA and Outlaws.

Out. Come, come;

be patient, we must bring you to our captain. Sit. A thousand more mischances than this one Have learn'd me how to brook this patiently. 2 Out. Come, bring her away.

1 Out. Where is the gentleman that was with her? 3 Out. Being nimble-footed, he hath out-run 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 captain's

cave

Fear not; he bears an honorable 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.

better brook than flourishing peopled towns: Here can I sit alone, unseen 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 fail,
And leave no memory of what it was!
Repair me with thy presence, Silvia;

Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain: --
What halloing, and what stir is this to-day!

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 unhappy.

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.
Whose life's as tender to me as my soul;
O, heaven be judge how I love Valentine,
And full as much (for more there cannot be)
I do detest false perjur'd Proteus;
Therefore begone, solicit me no more.

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

Would I not undergo for one calm look?
O, '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
belov'd.

Read over Julia's heart, thy first best love,
For whose dear sake thou didst then rend thy faith
Into a thousand oaths; and all those oaths
Descended into perjury, to love me.

Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou hadst two,
And that's far worse than none; better have none
Than plural faith, which is too much by one:
Thou counterfeit to thy true friend!
Who respects friend?

(For such is a friend now,) treacherous man!
Thou hast beguil'd my hopes; nought but mine eye
Now I dare not say
Could have persuaded me:

I have one friend alive; thou wouldst disprove me.
Who should be trusted now, when one's right hand
Is perjur'd to the bosom? Proteus,

I am sorry, I must never trust thee more,
But count the world a stranger for thy sake.
The private wound is deepest: 0 time, most curst!
'Mongst all foes, that a friend should be the worst!
Pro. My shame and guilt confound 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!