Milan. The Court of the DUKE’S Palace. | |
| |
| Enter PROTEUS. | |
| Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine, | |
| And now I must be as unjust to Thurio. | 4 |
| 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. | 8 |
| 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 | 12 |
| 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, | 16 |
| The more it grows, and fawneth on her still. | |
| But here comes Thurio: now must we to her window, | |
| And give some evening music to her ear. | |
| |
| Enter THURIO, and Musicians. | 20 |
| 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. | 24 |
| Pro. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence. | |
| Thu. Who? Silvia? | |
| Pro. Ay, Silvia, for your sake. | |
| Thu. I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen, | 28 |
| Let’s tune, and to it lustily a while. | |
| |
| 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. | 32 |
| Host. Come, we’ll have you merry. I’ll bring you where you shall hear music and see the gentleman that you asked for. | |
| Jul. But shall I hear him speak? | |
| Host. Ay, that you shall. | |
| Jul. That will be music. [Music plays. | 36 |
| Host. Hark! hark! | |
| Jul. 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. |
| 40 |
| 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. | 44 |
| 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. | 48 |
| 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. | 52 |
| 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? | 56 |
| Host. I will 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. | 60 |
| Pro. Sir Thurio, fear not you: I will so plead | |
| That you shall say my cunning drift excels. | |
| Thu. Where meet we? | |
| Pro. At Saint Gregory’s well. | 64 |
| Thu. Farewell. [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. | 68 |
| 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. | 72 |
| Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. | |
| Sil. What is your will? | |
| Pro. That I may compass yours. | |
| Sil. You have your wish; my will is even this: | 76 |
| 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, | 80 |
| 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 | 84 |
| 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. | |
| Pro. I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady; | 88 |
| But she is dead. | |
| 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 | 92 |
| 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. | 96 |
| 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 hers thence; | 100 |
| Or, at the least, in hers sepulchre thine. | |
| Jul. [Aside.] He heard not that. | |
| Pro. Madam, if your heart be so obdurate, | |
| Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love, | 104 |
| 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, | 108 |
| And to your shadow will I make true love. | |
| Jul. [Aside.] If ’twere a substance, you would, sure, deceive it, | |
| And make it but a shadow, as I am. | |
| Sil. I am very loath to be your idol, sir; | 112 |
| 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. | 116 |
| Pro. As wretches have o’er night | |
| That wait for execution in the morn. [Exeunt PROTEUS, and SILVIA, above. | |
| Jul. Host, will you go? | |
| Host. By my halidom, I was fast asleep. | 120 |
| Jul. Pray you, where lies Sir Proteus? | |
| Host. Marry, at my house. Trust me, I think ’tis almost day. | |
| Jul. Not so; but it hath been the longest night | |
| That e’er I watch’d and the most heaviest. [Exeunt. | 124 |
