'T is pity, love should be so contrary; And thinking on it makes me cry, alas!

Pro. Well, give her that ring, and therewitha. 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.
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.

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 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
Delivered 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 have 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?

Ful. Almost as well as I do know myself:
To think upon her woes I do protest
That I have wept an hundred several times.

Sil. Belike, she thinks that Proteus hath forsook her.

Ful. I think she doth, and that's her cause of

sorrow,

Sil. Is she not passing fair?

ful. She hath been fairer, madam, than she is:
When she did think my master lov'd 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 I.
Sil. How tall was she?

Ful. 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 serv'd 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, 't was 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.

Ful. 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 't is thy rival. Ó 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 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. [Exit.

SCENE II.-The same. A Room 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.

[rounder. Thu. I'll wear a boot, to make it somewhat 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.

[black

Thu. Nay, then the wanton lies; my face is Pro. But pearls are fair; and the old saying is, Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes.

Jul. 'T is 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.

[peace?

Duke. Saw you my daughter? Pro. Neither.
Duke. Why, then, she's fled unto that peasant
And Eglamour is in her company. [Valentine;
'T is true; for friar Lawrence 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.
Dispatch, 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 reveng'd 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. Ful, 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.

1 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 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.

I Out. Come, I must bring you to our captain's
Fear not; he bears an honourable mind, [cave;
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,
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 !
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 forc'd 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 is this I see and hear! Love, lend me patience to forbear awhile.

[Aside.

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.

Ful. And me, when he approacheth to your pre[Aside.

sence.

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 perjur'd Proteus :
Therefore be gone, solicit me no more.

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

Would I not undergo for one calm look?
O, 't is the curse in love, and still approv'd,
When women cannot love, where they're belov'd.

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. Sil. O heaven!

Pro.
I'll force thee yield to my desire.
Val. Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil touch;
Thou friend of an ill-fashion! Pro. Valentine !
Val. Thou common friend, that's without faith or
(For such is a friend now ;) treacherous man! [love;
Thou hast beguil'd my hopes; nought but mine eye
Could have persuaded me: Now I dare not say
I have one friend alive; thou would'st disprove me
Who should be trusted when one's own 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: O time most accurs'd!

'Mongst all foes, that a friend should be the worst. Pro. My shame, and guilt, confounds me.Forgive me, Valentine: if hearty sorrow

Be a sufficient ransom for offence,

I render 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!

Pro. Look to the boy.

[Faints.

Val. Why, boy! why, wag! how now? what's the matter? Look up; speak.

Jul. O good sir, my master charged me to deliver a ring to madam Silvia; which, out of my neglect, was never done.

Pro. Where is that ring, boy?

Jul. Here 't is this is it.

[Gives a ring.

Pro. How! let me see; why this is the ring I gave to Julia.

Ful. O, cry your mercy, sir, I have mistook; This is the ring you sent to Silvia.

[Shews another ring. Pro. But, how cam'st thou by this ring? at my depart, I gave this unto Julia.

Ful. And Julia herself did give it me; And Julia herself hath brought it hither. Pro. How! Julia !

Jul. Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths, And entertain'd them deeply in her heart: How oft hast thou with perjury cleft the root? O Proteus, let this habit make thee blush! Be thou asham'd, that I have took upon me Such an immodest raiment; if shame live

[sins:

But constant, he were perfect: that one error
Fills him with faults; makes him run through all
Inconstancy falls off, ere it begins:
What is in Silvia's face, but I may spy
More fresh in Julia's with a constant eye?
Val. Come, come, a hand from either:

Let me be blest to make this happy close;
'T were pity two such friends should be long foes.
Pro. Bear witness, Heaven, I have my wish for
Ful. And I mine.

Enter Outlaws, with Duke and Thurio.
Out. A prize, a prize, a prize!

[ever,

[duke.

Val. Forbear, forbear, I say; it is my lord the Your grace is welcome to a man disgrac'd, Banished Valentine.

Duke. Sir Valentine!

Thu. Yonder is Silvia; and Silvia's mine. Val. Thurio, give back, or else embrace thy Come not within the measure of my wrath: [death; Do not name Silvia thine; if once again, Milan shall not behold thee. Here she stands, Take but possession of her with a touch ;I dare thee but to breathe upon my love.Thu. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I; I hold him but a fool, that will endanger His body for a girl that loves him not: I claim her not, and therefore she is thine. Duke. The more degenerate and base art thou, To make such means for her as thou hast done, And leave her on such slight conditions.Now, by the honour of my ancestry,

I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine,

And think thee worthy of an empress' love.
Know then, I here forget all former griefs,
Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again.-
Plead a new state in thy unrivall❜d merit,
To which I thus subscribe,-Sir Valentine,
Thou art a gentleman, and well deriv'd;
Take thou thy Silvia, for thou hast deserv'd her.
Val. I thank your grace; the gift hath made me
happy.

I now beseech you, for your daughter's sake,
To grant one boon that I shall ask of you.
Duke. I grant it for thine own, whate'er it be.
Val. These banish'd men, that I have kept withal,
Are men endued with worthy qualities;

Forgive them what they have committed here,
And let them be recall'd from their exile :
They are reformed, civil, full of good,

And fit for great employment, worthy lord.
Duke. Thou hast prevail'd; I pardon them, and
thee;

Dispose of them, as thou know'st their deserts.
Come, let us go; we will include all jars
With triumphs, mirth, and rare solemnity.

Val. And, as we walk along, I dare be bold
With our discourse to make your grace to smile:
What think you of this page, my lord?

Duke. I think the boy hath grace in him; he

blushes.

SCENE I.-Windsor. Garden Front of Page's House. Enter Justice Shallow, Slender, and Sir Hugh Evans.

Shal. Sir Hugh, persuade me not; I will make a Star-chamber matter of it: if he were twenty sir John Falstaffs, he shall not abuse Robert Shallow, esquire.

Slen. In the county of Gloster, justice of peace, and coram.

Shal. Ay, cousin Slender, and Cust-alorum. Slen. Ay, and ratolorum too; and a gentleman born, master parson; who writes himself armigero; in any bill, warrant, quittance, or obligation, armigero.

SIMPLE, servant to Slender. RUGBY, servant to Dr. Caius.

Mrs. FORD. Mrs. PAGE.

Mrs. ANNE PAGE, her daughter. Mrs. QUICKLY, servant to Dr. Caius.

Servants to Page, Ford, &c.

Shal. Ay, that I do; and have done any time these three hundred years.

Slen. All his successors, gone before him, have don't; and all his ancestors, that come after him, may they may give the dozen white luces in their coat.

Shal. It is an old coat.

Eva. The dozen white louses do become an old coat well; it agrees well, passant: it is a familiar beast to man, and signifies love.

Shal. The luce is the fresh fish; the salt fish is an old coat.

Slen. I may quarter, coz?

Shal. You may, by marrying.

Eva. It is marring, indeed, if he quarter it.
Shal. Not a whit.