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 unadvised
Deliver'd you a paper that I should not;
This is the letter to your ladyship.

Sil. I pray thee, let me lock 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 profaned 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 woes, 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, than 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 starved 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 played,
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 Theseus' 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, loved, and adored;
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 used 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.

ACT V.

SCENE I.-The same. An Abbey.

Enter EGLAMOUR.

Egl. The sun begins to gild the western sky;
And now, it is about the very hour
That Silvia, at Patrick's cell, should meet me.
She will not fail; for lovers break not hours,
Unless it be to come before their time;
So much they spur their expedition.

Enter SILVIA.

See, where she comes: Lady, a happy evening.

[wit Sil. Amen, amen! go on, good Eglamour!

Out at the postern by the abbey wall;

I fear, I am attended by some spies.

Egl. Fear not: the forest is not three leagues off;

If we recover that, we are sure* enough.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. The same. An Apartment in the DUKE'S paluce,

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 spurred 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 is,

Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes.

Jul. 'Tis true; such pearls as put out ladies' eyes;

For I had rather wink than look on them.

[Aside.

Thu. How likes she my discourse?

Pro. Ill, when you talk of war.

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

Jul. But better, indeed, when you hold your peace.

[Aside.

Thu. What says she to my valour?

Pro. O, Sir, she makes no doubt of that.

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.

[Aside.

Thu. Considers she my possessions?

Pro. O, ay; and pities them.

Thu. Wherefore?

Jul. That such an ass should owet them.

Pro. That they are out by lease.

Jul. Here comes the duke.

Enter DUKE.

Duke. How now, Sir Proteus? how now, Thurio?

Which of you saw Sir Eglamour of late?

[Aside.

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

And Eglamour 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
That leads towards Mantua, whither they are fled:

Despatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me.

[Exit.

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.

[Exit.

Pro. And I will follow, more for Silvia's love, Than 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.
Sil. 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 outrun 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 honourable mind,
And will not use a woman lawlessly.

Sil. O Valentine, this I endure for thee!

SCENE IV.-Another part of the Forest.

Enter VALENTINE.

Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man!
This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,
I 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 fall,
And leave no memory of what it was!
Repair me with thy presence, Silvia;

Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain!

[Exeunt.

What halloing, and what stir, is this to-day?
These are my mates, that make their wills their law,
Have some unhappy passenger in chase:

They love me well; yet I have much to do,

To keep them from uncivil outrages.

Withdraw thee, Valentine; who's this comes here? [Steps aside

Enter PROTEUS, SILVIA, and JULIA.

Pro. Madam, this service I have done for you
(Though you respect not aught your servant doth),
To hazard life, and rescue you from him
That would have forced your honour and your love.
Vouchsafe me, for my meed, but one fair look;
A smaller boon than this I cannot beg,
And less than this, I am sure, you cannot give.
Val. How like a dream as this I see and hear!

Love, lend me patience to forbear awhile.
Sil. O miserable, unhappy that I am!
Pro. Unhappy, were you, madam, ere 1 came;

But, by my coming, I have made you happy.

Sil. By thy approach thou mak'st me most unhappy.

[Aside.

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.
O, heaven be judge, how I love Valentine,
Whose life's as tender to me as my soul;
And full as much (for more there cannot be)
I do detest false perjured 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 approved,†
When women cannot love where they're beloved.

Sil. When Proteus cannot love where he's beloved.
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!

Pro. In love,

Who respects friend!

Sil. All men but Proteus.

Pro. Nay, if the gentle spirit of moving words

Can no way change you to a milder form,

I'll woo you like a soldier, at arms' end;

And love you 'gainst the nature of love, force you.