1 Out. Have you the tongues? Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy, Or else I had been often miserable. 3 Out. By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar, 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. 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 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. 2 Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Who, 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; And, partly, seeing you are beautify'd 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 consort? Say, ay, and be the captain of us all. 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. SCENE II.-Milan. [Exeunt. The Court of the Palace. Enter PROTEUS. Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine, I have access my own love to prefer; She twits me with my falsehood to my friend; 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. Thu. I thank you for your own. Now, gentle men, Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile. Enter Host and JULIA, behind; 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 gentleman that you ask'd for. Jul. But shall I hear him speak? [Music plays. Jul. Is he among these? SONG. Who is Silvia? what is she, That all our swains commend her? The heaven such grace did lend her, Is she kind, as she is fair, For beauty lives with kindness? To help him of his blindness; That Silvia is excelling; Upon the dull earth dwelling: Host. How now! are you sadder than you were before? How do you, man? the music likes you not. 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. 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. 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. At saint Gregory's well. [Exeunt THURIO and Musicians. Enter SILVIA 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 would quickly learn to know him by his voice. Sil. Sir Proteus, as I take it. Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. That I may compass yours. Sil. You have your wish my will is even this, That hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows? Jul. [Aside.] 'Twere false, if I should speak it; For, I am sure, she is not buried. 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 importunacy? Pro. I likewise 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. [Aside.] He heard not that. Pro. Madam, if your heart be so obdurate, And to your shadow will I make true love. And make it but a shadow, as I am. Sil. I am very loth to be your idol, sir; But, since your falsehood shall become you well Pro. [Exeunt PROTEUS, and SILVIA. Egl. As many, worthy lady, to yourself. I am thus early come, to know what service Sil. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman, Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances; As much I wish all good befortune you. At friar Patrick's cell, Sil. This evening coming. Egl. Where shall I meet you? Sil. Where I intend holy confession. Egl. I will not fail your ladyship. Good morrow, Gentle lady. Sil. Good morrow, kind sir Eglamour. [Exeunt. 27 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 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 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 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 stocks for puddings he hath stolen, 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 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 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. Jul. In what you please: I will do what I can. Pro. I hope thou wilt.-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. 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? 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 marketplace; 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, Or ne'er return again into my sight. Away, I say! Stayest thou to vex me here? Sebastian, I have entertained thee, She lov'd me well deliver'd it to me. Jul. Madam, please you peruse this letter.— Sil. I pray thee, let me look on that again. I will not look upon your master's lines: Jul. Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring. Jul. It seems, you lov'd not her, to leave her For, I have heard him say, a thousand times, token. She's dead, belike? As 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 you do love your lady Silvia. She dreams on him, that has forgot her love; Pro. Well, give her that ring; and therewithal Alas, poor Proteus! thou hast entertain'd This ring I gave him when he parted from me, To praise his faith which I would have disprais’d. But cannot be true servant to my master, Gentlewoman, good day. I pray you, be my His Julia gave it him at his departure. Sil. What say'st thou ? Jul. I thank you, madam, that you tender her. Jul. Almost as well as I do know myself: 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, than she is. Sil. How tall was she? Jul. About my stature; for, at Pentecost, Sil. She is beholding to thee, gentle youth.— I weep myself, to think upon thy words. For thy sweet mistress' sake, because thou lov'st [Exit SILVIA. Jul. And she shall thank you for't, if e'er you know her. A virtuous gentlewoman, mild, and beautiful. Were full as lovely as is this of hers; If this fond love were not a blinded god? I should have scratch'd out your unseeing eyes, |