Love thee as our commander and our king. First Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. Sec. 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 10 women or poor passengers. Third Out. No, we detest such vile base practices. Come, go with us, we'll bring thee to our cave,11 And show thee all the treasure we have got ; Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-MILAN. The court of the DUKE'S Palace. Enter PROTEUS. Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine She twits me with my falsehood to my friend; But here comes Thurio: now must we to her window, And give some evening music to her ear. Enter THURIO and Musicians. Thu. How now, Sir Proteus! are you crept before us ?13 Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio; for you know that love Will creep in service where it cannot go. 10. Silly. Innocent, harmless, helpless. Shakespeare has used this word in various places, with its older and more favourable significations; and with its more modern and less advantageous meaning. Archbishop Trench has shown how "silly" has passed into various declensions of signification; from blessed, innocent, harmless, down to weakly, foolish. 11. Bring thee to our cave. This last word was printed 66 crewes" in the Folio; and though Shakespeare has elsewhere used "crew" for a company, a set of people, yet being in the plural here, it looks very like a misprint. That "cave" is the right word, seems strongly supported by "show thee all the treasure we have got," in the next line; and there is mention of our captain's cave" in the third scene of the fifth act. substitution was made by Mr. Collier's MS. corrector. 12. Sudden quips. Sharp retorts, keen fleers and flouts. 13. Crept before us. It is curious to note how, in slight touches, in mere passing words, as in broad painting, the poet contrives to fill up and keep perpetually before us the distinctive The Thu. Ay; but I hope, sir, that you love not here. Pro. men, 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 allicholy: 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 asked for. Jul. But shall I hear him speak? Host. Ay, that you shall. Jul. That will be music. 15 Host. Hark, hark! Jul. Is he among these? Host. Host. before? not. [Music plays. 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: That Silvia is excelling; How now! are you sadder than you were Jul. You mistake; the musician likes 16 me not. marks of his characters. In that little monosyllable "crept here introduced,- -no less than by the preceding soliloquy and the more manifest passages throughout the play,-the essential meanness that characterises Proteus is delineated. Through the impression produced upon other persons in the drama, Shakespeare often thus subtly conveys the impression he desires to produce on his audience; and in Thurio's expression "crept," we seem to see Proteus as even the obtuse Thurio instinctively sees him,-a cringing, stealthy-stepped, base-souled man. 14. Who? Silvia? Among writers of Shakespeare's time, "who" where we should now write 'whom,' 'she' for 'her,' 'he' for 'him,'-and their respective reverse use,-were not considered blemishes or inaccuracies of style. 15. That will be music. One of those brief but all-eloquent sentences that Shakespeare puts into the mouths of his women, giving a passionate heart-history in four words. 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. Host. Hark, what fine change is in the music! 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 loved 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. Sir Thurio, fear not you: I will so plead, That you shall say my cunning drift excels. Thu. Pro. Thu. Where meet we? At Saint Gregory's well. Farewell. [Exeunt THURIO and Musicians. SILVIA appears 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 hast deceiv'd so many with thy vows? That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit; Pro. I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady; 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 Survives; to whom, thyself art witness, I am betroth'd; and art thou not asham'd Pro. I likewise hear that Valentine is dead. Pro. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth. Sil. Go to thy lady's grave, and call hers thence; Or, at the least, in hers sepúlchre thine. Jul. [aside] He heard not that. Pro. 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. Jul. [aside] If 'twere a substance, you would, sure, deceive it, 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 19 To worship shadows, and adore false shapes, Send to me in the morning, and I'll send it: And so, good rest. There's some great matter she'd employ me in.— SILVIA re-appears above, at her window. friend; Sil. Sil. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman,- Egl. I will not fail your ladyship. Sil. Good morrow, kind Sir Eglamour. 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 dining-chamber, but he steps me to her trencher, and steals her capon's leg. Oh, '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 hanged for't; sure as I live, he had suffered 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 snuffing while, but all the chamber smelt him. "Out with the dog," says one; "What cur is that ?" says Hang To Mantua, where I hear he makes abode; 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, 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 dog: "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 killed, otherwise he had suffered for't.-Thou thinkest not of this now! At Friar Patrick's cell, Nay, I remember the trick you served me when I took my leave of Madam Silvia: did not I bid thee Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances; 25 Sil. This evening coming. Egl. Where shall I meet you? Where I intend holy confession. 22. Impose. Used as a noun for that which is imposed. An 'imposition' is a term still used in college for a task set as a penalty. Impose" is here employed for injunction, command. 23. Remorseful. Compassionate, full of pity and kindly commiseration. 24 Upon whose faith and honour I repose. Shakespeare has shown how Silvia, who trusts in Valentine's constancy, and loathes Proteus's inconstancy, would especially confide in Sir Eglamour, who is vowed to constancy upon his lost lady's grave, safely choosing him for faithful guide and protector in her flight. 25. I pity much your grievances; which, &c. Although this sentence is somewhat crampedly expressed, it appears to mean:-'I pity the grievances of which you have to complain : but as I know how virtuously you bear them, and how little you deserve them, I give consent, &c.' "Grievances" are generally explained to mean here 'griefs;' but the enforced marriage with a man whom her soul abhors, the most unholy match from which she would fly, seem to give support to the word being taken in its usual meaning of injuries menaced or inflicted, grounds for complaint. 26. Recking. Heeding, caring for, taking reckoning of. still mark me, and do as I do? when didst thou see me heave up my leg against a gentlewoman's farthingale? didst thou ever see me do such a trick? Re-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.-[To LAUNCE] How now, you rascal 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 received 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 boys 27 in the marketplace: and then 1 offered her mine own,—who is a dog as big as ten of yours, and therefore the gift the greater. Pro. Wherefore shouldst thou pity her? Jul. 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; Pro. Well, give her that ring, and therewithal Jul. How many women would do such a message ? Alas, poor Proteus! thou hast entertain'd Pro. Go get thee hence, and find my dog again, To praise his faith, which I would have disprais'd. Or ne'er return again into my sight. Away, I say! stay'st thou to vex me here?, A slave, that still an end turns me to shame! 28 [Exit LAUNCE. Sebastian, I have entertained thee, She lov'd me well deliver'd it to me." Jul. It seems, you lov'd not her, to leave her token. I am my master's true confirmed love; 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? |