PROTEUS.
I’ll force thee yield to my desire.
VALENTINE.
[Comes forward.] Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil touch,
Thou friend of an ill fashion!
PROTEUS.
Valentine!
VALENTINE.
Thou common friend, that’s without faith or love,
For such is a friend now. Treacherous man,
Thou hast beguiled my hopes; nought but mine eye
Could have persuaded me. Now I dare not say
I have one friend alive; thou wouldst disprove me.
Who should be trusted, when one’s right hand
Is perjured to the bosom? Proteus,
I am sorry I must never trust thee more,
But count the world a stranger for thy sake.
The private wound is deepest. O time most accurst,
’Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst!
PROTEUS.
My shame and guilt confounds me.
Forgive me, Valentine; if hearty sorrow
Be a sufficient ransom for offence,
I tender ’t here. I do as truly suffer
As e’er I did commit.
VALENTINE.
Then I am paid,
And once again I do receive thee honest.
Who by repentance is not satisfied
Is nor of heaven nor earth, for these are pleased;
By penitence th’ Eternal’s wrath’s appeased.
And that my love may appear plain and free,
All that was mine in Silvia I give thee.
JULIA.
O me unhappy!
[Swoons.]
PROTEUS.
Look to the boy.
VALENTINE.
Why, boy!
Why, wag! How now? What’s the matter? Look up; speak.