But, Host, doth this Sir Proteus, that we talk on,
Often resort unto this gentlewoman?
Often resort unto this gentlewoman?
Shakespeare
PROTEUS. 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.
THURIO. 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.
PROTEUS. 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.
PROTEUS. 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 consort; 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.
THURIO. And thy advice this night I'll put in practice;
Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver,
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!
PROTEUS. We'll wait upon your Grace till after supper,
And afterward determine our proceedings.
DUKE. Even now about it! I will pardon you. Exeunt
ACT_4|SC_1
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ACT IV. SCENE I.
The frontiers of Mantua. A forest
Enter certain OUTLAWS
FIRST OUTLAW. Fellows, stand fast; I see a passenger.
SECOND OUTLAW. If there be ten, shrink not, but down with 'em.
Enter VALENTINE and SPEED
THIRD OUTLAW. Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about ye;
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.
VALENTINE. My friends-
FIRST OUTLAW. That's not so, sir; we are your enemies.
SECOND OUTLAW. Peace! we'll hear him.
THIRD OUTLAW. Ay, by my beard, will we; for he is a proper man.
VALENTINE. Then know that I have little wealth to lose;
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.
SECOND OUTLAW. Whither travel you?
VALENTINE. To Verona.
FIRST OUTLAW. Whence came you?
VALENTINE. From Milan.
THIRD OUTLAW. Have you long sojourn'd there?
VALENTINE. Some sixteen months, and longer might have stay'd,
If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.
FIRST OUTLAW. What, were you banish'd thence?
VALENTINE. I was.
SECOND OUTLAW. For what offence?
VALENTINE. 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.
FIRST OUTLAW. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so.
But were you banish'd for so small a fault?
VALENTINE. I was, and held me glad of such a doom.
SECOND OUTLAW. Have you the tongues?
VALENTINE. My youthful travel therein made me happy,
Or else I often had been miserable.
THIRD OUTLAW. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar,
This fellow were a king for our wild faction!
FIRST OUTLAW. We'll have him. Sirs, a word.
SPEED. Master, be one of them; it's an honourable kind of thievery.
VALENTINE. Peace, villain!
SECOND OUTLAW. Tell us this: have you anything to take to?
VALENTINE. Nothing but my fortune.
THIRD OUTLAW. Know, then, that some of us are gentlemen,
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.
SECOND OUTLAW. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman
Who, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart.
FIRST OUTLAW. 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
With goodly shape, and by your own report
A linguist, and a man of such perfection
As we do in our quality much want-
SECOND OUTLAW. 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?
THIRD OUTLAW. What say'st thou? Wilt thou be of our consort?
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.
FIRST OUTLAW. But if thou scorn our courtesy thou diest.
SECOND OUTLAW. Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offer'd.
VALENTINE. I take your offer, and will live with you,
Provided that you do no outrages
On silly women or poor passengers.
THIRD OUTLAW. 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. Outside the DUKE'S palace, under SILVIA'S window
Enter PROTEUS
PROTEUS. 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.
Enter THURIO and MUSICIANS
But here comes Thurio. Now must we to her window,
And give some evening music to her ear.
THURIO. How now, Sir Proteus, are you crept before us?
PROTEUS. Ay, gentle Thurio; for you know that love
Will creep in service where it cannot go.
THURIO. Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here.
PROTEUS. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence.
THURIO. Who? Silvia?
PROTEUS. Ay, Silvia- for your sake.
THURIO. I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen,
Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile.
Enter at a distance, HOST, and JULIA in boy's clothes
HOST. Now, my young guest, methinks you're allycholly; I pray you,
why is it?
JULIA. 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 gentleman that you ask'd for.
JULIA. But shall I hear him speak?
HOST. Ay, that you shall. [Music plays]
JULIA. That will be music.
HOST. Hark, hark!
JULIA. Is he among these?
HOST. Ay; but peace! let's hear 'em.
SONG
Who is Silvia? What is she,
That all our swains commend her?
Holy, fair, and wise is she;
The heaven 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.
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.
JULIA. You mistake; the musician likes me not.
HOST. Why, my pretty youth?
JULIA. He plays false, father.
HOST. How, out of tune on the strings?
JULIA. Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my very
heart-strings.
HOST. You have a quick ear.
JULIA. Ay, I would I were deaf; it makes me have a slow heart.
HOST. I perceive you delight not in music.
JULIA. Not a whit, when it jars so.
HOST. Hark, what fine change is in the music!
JULIA. Ay, that change is the spite.
HOST. You would have them always play but one thing?
JULIA. 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 lov'd her out of
all nick.
JULIA. 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.
JULIA. Peace, stand aside; the company parts.
PROTEUS. Sir Thurio, fear not you; I will so plead
That you shall say my cunning drift excels.
THURIO. Where meet we?
PROTEUS. At Saint Gregory's well.
THURIO. Farewell. Exeunt THURIO and MUSICIANS
Enter SILVIA above, at her window
PROTEUS. Madam, good ev'n to your ladyship.
SILVIA. I thank you for your music, gentlemen.
Who is that that spake?
PROTEUS. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth,
You would quickly learn to know him by his voice.
SILVIA. Sir Proteus, as I take it.
PROTEUS. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant.
SILVIA. What's your will?
PROTEUS. That I may compass yours.
SILVIA. 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,
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.
PROTEUS. I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady;
But she is dead.
JULIA. [Aside] 'Twere false, if I should speak it;
For I am sure she is not buried.
SILVIA. 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 importunacy?
PROTEUS. I likewise hear that Valentine is dead.
SILVIA. And so suppose am I; for in his grave
Assure thyself my love is buried.
PROTEUS. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth.
SILVIA. Go to thy lady's grave, and call hers thence;
Or, at the least, in hers sepulchre thine.
JULIA. [Aside] He heard not that.
PROTEUS. Madam, if your heart be so obdurate,
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 will I make true love.
JULIA. [Aside] If 'twere a substance, you would, sure, deceive it
And make it but a shadow, as I am.
SILVIA. I am very loath 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.
PROTEUS. As wretches have o'ernight
That wait for execution in the morn.
Exeunt PROTEUS and SILVIA
JULIA. Host, will you go?
HOST. By my halidom, I was fast asleep.
JULIA. Pray you, where lies Sir Proteus?
HOST. Marry, at my house. Trust me, I think 'tis almost day.
JULIA. Not so; but it hath been the longest night
That e'er I watch'd, and the most heaviest. Exeunt
SCENE III.
Under SILVIA'S window
Enter EGLAMOUR
EGLAMOUR. 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!
Enter SILVIA above, at her window
SILVIA. Who calls?
EGLAMOUR. Your servant and your friend;
One that attends your ladyship's command.
SILVIA. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good morrow!
EGLAMOUR. 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.
SILVIA. 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 abhors.
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 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.
EGLAMOUR. 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?
SILVIA. This evening coming.
EGLAMOUR. Where shall I meet you?
SILVIA. At Friar Patrick's cell,
Where I intend holy confession.
EGLAMOUR. I will not fail your ladyship. Good morrow, gentle lady.
SILVIA. Good morrow, kind Sir Eglamour. Exeunt
SCENE IV.
Under SILVIA'S Window
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 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
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
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 his servant? Nay,
I'll be sworn, I have sat in the stock for puddings he hath
stol'n, otherwise he had been executed; I have stood on the
pillory for geese he hath 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 gentlewoman's farthingale?
Didst thou ever see me do such a trick?
Enter PROTEUS, and JULIA in boy's clothes
PROTEUS. Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well,
And will employ thee in some service presently.
JULIA. In what you please; I'll do what I can.
PROTEUS. . 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.
PROTEUS. 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.
PROTEUS. But she receiv'd my dog?
LAUNCE. No, indeed, did she not; here have I brought him back
again.
PROTEUS. What, didst thou offer her this from me?
LAUNCE. Ay, sir; the other squirrel was stol'n from me by the
hangman's boys in the 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.
PROTEUS. Go, get thee hence and find my dog again,
Or ne'er return again into my sight.
Away, I say. Stayest 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,
For 'tis 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.
JULIA. It seems you lov'd not her, to leave her token.
She is dead, belike?
PROTEUS. Not so; I think she lives.
JULIA. Alas!
PROTEUS. Why dost thou cry 'Alas'?
JULIA. I cannot choose
But pity her.
PROTEUS. Wherefore shouldst thou pity her?
JULIA. 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! '
PROTEUS. 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
JULIA. 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 will I 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.
SILVIA. What would you with her, if that I be she?
JULIA. If you be she, I do entreat your patience
To hear me speak the message I am sent on.
SILVIA. From whom?
JULIA. From my master, Sir Proteus, madam.