385

Launce. For thee! Ay, who art thou? He hath stay'd for a better man than thee. Speed. And must I go to him?

Launce. Thou must run to him, for thou hast stay'd so long that going will scarce serve the turn.

Speed. Why didst not tell me sooner? Pox of your love-letters! [Exit.] 391 Launce. Now will he be swing'd for reading my letter; -an unmannerly slave, that will thrust himself into secrets! I'll after, to rejoice in the boy's correction. [Exit. 395

SCENE II. [The same. The Duke's palace.]

Enter DUKE and THURIO.

Duke. Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love you,

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.

5

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.
[Enter PROTEUS.]

How now, Sir Proteus! Is your countryman
According to our proclamation gone?
Pro. Gone, my good lord.

10

Duke. My daughter takes his going grievously. Pro. A little time, my lord, will kill that

grief.

15

Duke. So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so. Proteus, the good conceit I hold of theeFor 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.

21

Duke. Thou know'st how willingly I would effect

The match between Sir Thurio and my daugh

To hate young Valentine and love my friend, es
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. 70
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,

80

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 consort; to their instru-

ments

Tune a deploring dump. The night's dead silence

85

Will well become such sweet-complaining griev

ance.

This, or else nothing, will inherit her.

Duke. This discipline shows thou hast been

in love.

Thu. And thy advice this night I'll put in practice.

Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver, D0 Let us into the city presently

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!

And show thee all the treasure we have got; 75 Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. [Milan. Outside the Duke's palace, under Silvia's window.]

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 10
In breaking faith with Julia whom I loved;
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.

25

18

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 rewards 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.

30

35

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.

40

At Friar Patrick's cell,

Where I intend holy confession.

Egl. I will not fail your ladyship. Good [45 morrow, gentle lady.

Sil. Good morrow, kind Sir Eglamour. [Exeunt [severally].

SCENE IV. [The same.]

Enter LAUNCE [with his Dog].

Launce. 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 sav'd 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, 't is a foul thing [10 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 [18 hang'd for 't; sure as I live, he had suffer'd for 't. You shall judge. He thrusts me himself into the company of three or four gentlemanlike dogs, under the Duke's table. He had not been there bless the mark! - a piss- [20 ing while, but all the chamber smelt him. "Out with the dog!" says one. 66 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 [25 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; "'t was I did the thing you wot of." He makes me no more ado, but [30 whips me out of the chamber. How many masters would do this for his servant? Nay, I'll be sworn, I have sat in the stocks for puddings

66

he hath stolen, otherwise he had been executed; I have stood on the pillory for geese he hath [35 kill'd, otherwise he had suffer'd for 't. Thou think'st not of this now. Nay, I remember the trick you serv'd 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 [40 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.

45

Jul. In what you please. I'll do what I can. Pro. I hope thou wilt. [To Launce.] How now, you whoreson peasant! Where have you been these two days loitering? Launce. Marry, sir, I carried Mistress Silvia the dog you bade me.

50

Pro. And what says she to my little jewel? Launce. Marry, she says your dog was a cur, and tells you currish thanks is good enough for such a present.

Pro. But she receiv'd my dog?

55

Launce. No, indeed, did she not; here have I brought him back again.

Pro. What, didst thou offer her this from me? Launce. Ay, sir; the other squirrel was stolen from me by the hangman's boys in the [eo market-place; and then I offer'd 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,

65

Or ne'er return again into my sight.
Away, I say! stay'st thou to vex me here?
[Exit Launce.]
A slave, that still an end turns me to shame!
Sebastian, I have entertained thee,
Partly that I have need of such a youth
That can with some discretion do my business, 70
For 't is no trusting to yond foolish lout,
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 lov'd me well deliver'd it to me.

76

withal

90

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.]

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.

95

300

This ring I gave him when he parted from

Jul. Ay, madam.

190

Sil. Ursula, bring my picture there. Go give your master this. Tell him from me, One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget, 14 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. 13 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.

135

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

140

His Julia gave it him at his departure.
Though his false finger have profan'd the ring,
Mine shall not do his Julia so much wrong.