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With willing sport to the wild ocean.
Julia. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear :
Lucetta. All these are servants to deceitful men.
him ! Julia. w, as thou lov'st me, do him not that wrong, To bear a hard opinion of his truth; Only deserve my love, by loving him ; And presently go with me to my chamber, To take a note of what I stand in need of, To furnish me upon my longing journey. All that is mine I leave at thy dispose, My goods, my lands, my reputation ; Only, in lieu thereof despatch me hence : Come, answer not, but to it presently ; I am impatient of my tarriance.
Valentine. And why not death, rather than living
ACT IV. SCENE II.
Proteus. Already have I been false to Valentine,
She twits me with my falsehood to my friend ;
Silvia. You have your wish; my will is even this,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, 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, 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.
Silvia. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman,
Thyself hast lov’d; and I have heard thee say,
with me: If not, to hide what I have said to thee, That I may venture to depart alone.
Julia. How many women would do such a message? Alas, poor Proteus ! thou hast entertained 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.
Julia. 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.
Silvia. She is beholden to thee, gentle youth ! Alas, poor lady! desolate and left !–
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.
ACT V. SCENE IV.
Valentine. 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;