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the greater.

Where have you been these two days loitering?

Laun. Marry, sir, I carried mistress Silvia the dog you bade me.

Pro. And what says she, to my little jewel ?

Laun. 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 ?

Laun. No, indeed, she did not: here have I brought him back again.

Pro. What, didst thou offer her this from me?

Laun. Ay, sir; the other squirrel was stolen from me by the hangman's boys in the marketplace : and then I offered her mine own; who is a dog as big as ten of yours, and therefore the gift

Pro. Go, get thee hence, and find my dog again, Or ne'er return again unto my sight. Away, I say : Stay'st thou to vex me here? A slave, that, still an end, turns 'me to shame.

(Exit Launce. Sebastian, I have entertained thee, Partly, that I have need of such a youth, That can with some discretion do my business, For 'tis no trusting to yon foolish lowt: But, chiefly, for thy face, and thy behaviour; Which (if my augury deceive me not) Witness good bringing up, fortune, and truth : Therefore know thou, for this I entertain thee. Go presently, and take this ring with thee, Deliver it to madam Silvia : She loved me well, deliver'd it to me. Jul. It seems you loved her not, to leave her

token : She's dead, belike. Pro.

Not so; I think, she lives.
Jul. Alas!
Pro. Why dost thou cry,

alas?
(1) In the end.

sage?

Jul. I cannot choose but pity her.
Pro. Wherefore should'st thou pity her ?
Jul. Because, methinks, that she loved you as

well
As
you

do love your lady Silvia : She dreams on him, that has forgot her love ; You dote on her, that cares not for your love. 'Tis pity, love should be so contrary; And thinking on it makes me cry, alas !

Pro. Well, give her that ring, and therewithal 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 mesAlas, 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 bave 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? VOL. I.

G

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. li 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 liew-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 profan'd the ring,
Mine shall not do bis 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 ber 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 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?
Jul. 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 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,2
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,

(1) Whitsuntide. (2) In good earnest.

If I had such a tire, this face of mine
Were full as lovely' as is this of hers :
And yet the painter Hatter'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. 0 thou senseless form!
Thou shalt be worshipp'd, kiss'd, lor'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 us'd 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

.

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! (1) Head-dress. (2) Respectable.

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