The Family Shakspeare

Jul.

'Twere false, if I should speak it; For I am sure, she is not buried.

[Aside. Sil. Say that she be; yet Valentine, thy friend, Survives; to whom, thyself art witness,

I am bethroth'd: And art thou not asham'd

To wrong him with thy importúnacy?

Pro. I likewise hear, that Valentine is dead. 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 her's thence; Or, at the least, in her's sepulchre thine.

Sil. I am very loth to be your idol, sir;
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.

Pro
As wretches have o'er night,
That wait for execution in the morn.

[Exeunt PROTEUS, and SILVIA from above. Jul. Host, will you go?

Host. By my hallidom', I was fast asleep.
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.

Sil.

Egl.

SILVIA appears above, at her window.

Who calls?

Your servant, and your friend;
One that attends your ladyship's command.
Sil. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good-morrow.
Egl. As many, worthy lady to yourself.
According to your ladyship's impose3,
I am thus early come, to know what service
It is your pleasure to command me in.

Sil. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman,
(Think not I flatter, for, I swear, I do not,)
Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplish'd.
Thou art not ignorant, what dear good will
I bear unto the banish'd Valentine;
Nor how my father would enforce me marry
Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhorr'd.
Thyself hast lov'd; and I have heard thee say,
No grief did ever come so near thy heart,
As when thy lady and thy true love died,
Upon whose grave thou vow'dst pure chastity.
Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine,

To Mantua, where, I hear, he makes abode;
And, for the ways are dangerous to pass,
I do desire thy worthy company,
Upon whose faith and honour I repose.
Urge not my father's anger, Eglamour,
But think upon my grief, a lady's grief;
And on the justice of my flying hence,
To keep me from a most unholy match,
Which heaven and fortune still reward with plagues.
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,
That I may venture to depart alone.

Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances.
Which since I know they virtuously are plac'd,
I give consent to go along with you;
Recking as little what betideth me,
As much I wish all good befortune you.
When will you go?

Sil.

At friar Patrick's cell,

This evening coming.
Egl. Where shall I meet you?
Sil.
Where I intend holy confession.
Egl. I will not fail your ladyship:
Good-morrow, gentle lady.

Sil. Good-morrow, kind sir Eglamour. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV. The same.

Enter LAUNCE, with his dog.

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 diningchamber, but he steps me to her trencher, and steals her capon's leg. O, '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. 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 think'st not of this now!

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. How now, you idle peasant? [TO LAUNCE. 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.

5 Caring.

6 Restrain.

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 market-place: and then I offered her mine own; who is a dog as big as ten of yours, and therefore the gift the greater. Pro. Go, get thee hence, and find my dog again, Or ne'er return again into my sight.

Away, I say: Stay'st thou to vex me here?
A slave, that, still an end7, 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.

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 casily 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:

Jul. It seems you loved her not, to leave her Though his false finger hath profan'd the ring,

you as well

Pro. Why dost thou cry, alas?
Jul. I cannot choose but pity her.
Pro. Wherefore should'st thou pity her?
Jul. Because, methinks, that she lov'd
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 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 coldy,

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?

Jul. 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.
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 8,
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 9,
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,

As, heaven it knows, I would not have him speed. If I in thought felt not her very sorrow!

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 'tis thy rival. O 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 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.

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.

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

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

Jul. 'Tis 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.

Thu. Considers she my possessions? Pro. O, ay; and pities them.

Thu. Wherefore?

Jul. That such an ass should owe? them. [side. Pro. That they are out by lease.

Jul. Here comes the duke.

Enter DUKE.

Duke. How now, sir Proteus? how now, Thurio? Which of you saw sir Eglamour of late? Thu. Not I.

Pro. Duke.

Pro.

Nor I.

Saw you my daughter? Neither. Duke. Why, then, she's fled unto that peasant Valentine;

And Eglamour is in her company.

'Tis true; for friar Laurence 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:
Despatch, 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 revenged on Eglamour,
Than for the love of reckless 3 Silvia.

[Exit.

Pro. And I will follow, more for Silvia's love, Than hate of Eglamour, that goes with her. [Exit. Jul. And I will follow, more to cross that love, Than hate for Silvia, that is gone for love. [Exit.

Thu. But well, when I discourse of love, and SCENE III.- Frontiers of Mantua. The Forest. peace?

Jul. But better, indeed, when you hold your

peace.

[Aside.

Thu. What says she to my valour?
Pro. O, sir, she makes no doubt of that.
Jul. She needs not, when she knows it cowardice.

Thu. What says she to my birth? Pro. That you are well deriv'd.

[Aside.

Enter SILVIA and Outlaws.

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,

Jul. True; from a gentleman to a fool. [Aside. But Moyses, and Valerius, follow him.

1 Head-dress.

2 Own.

3 Careless.

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.

1 Out. Come, I must bring you to our captain's

cave;

Fear not; he bears an honourable mind,
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 4 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, 'Mongst all foes, that a friend should be the worst!
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 a while. [Aside.
Sil. O miserable, unhappy that I am!
Pro. Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came ;
But, by my coming, have made you happy.

Sil. By thy approach thou mak'st me most un-
happy.

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

sence.

Sil. Had I been seiz'd 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 begone, solicit me no more.

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

Would I not undergo for one calm look?
O, 'tis the curse in love, and still approv'd 5,
When women cannot love where they're belov'd.

Sil. When Proteus cannot love where he's belov'd.
Read over Julia's heart, thy first best love,
For whose dear sake thou didst then rend thy faith
Into a thousand oaths; and all those oaths
Descended into perjury, to love me.

Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou hadst two,
And that's far worse than none; better have none
5 Felt, experienced.

4 Sing.

Pro. My shame and guilt confound me. —
Forgive me, Valentine: if hearty sorrow
Be a sufficient ransom for offence,
I tender it here; I do as truly suffer,
As e'er I did commit.
Val.

Then I am paid;

Pro. Than men their minds? 'tis true: O heaven! | And think thee worthy of an empress' love.

were man

But constant, he were perfect: that one error

Know then, I here forget all former griefs, Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again.

Fills him with faults; makes him run through all Plead a new state in thy unrivall'd merit,

sins :

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;
'Twere pity two such friends should be long foes.
Pr. Bear witness, heaven, I have my wish for ever.
Jul. And I have mine.

Enter Out-laws, with DUKE and THURIO.
Out.
A prize, a prize, a prize!
Val. Forbear, I say; it is my lord the duke.
Your grace is welcome to a man disgrac'd,
Banished Valentine.

Thu. Yonder is Silvia; and Silvia's mine. Val. Thurio, give back, or else embrace thy death; Come not within the measure of my wrath :8 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.

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.

Vil. 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.

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The Family Shakspeare: In One Volume, in which Nothing is Added to the ...