Enter SILVIA above, at her window
PROTEUS. Madam, good ev'n to your ladyship.
SILVIA. I thank you for your music, gentlemen.
Who is that that spake?
PROTEUS. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth,
You would quickly learn to know him by his voice.
SILVIA. Sir Proteus, as I take it.
PROTEUS. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant.
SILVIA. What's your will?
PROTEUS. That I may compass yours.
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.
PROTEUS. I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady;
But she is dead.
JULIA. [Aside] 'Twere false, if I should speak it;
For I am sure she is not buried.
SILVIA. Say that she be; yet Valentine, thy friend,
Survives, to whom, thyself art witness,
I am betroth'd; and art thou not asham'd
To wrong him with thy importunacy?
PROTEUS. I likewise hear that Valentine is dead.
SILVIA. And so suppose am I; for in his grave
Assure thyself my love is buried.
PROTEUS. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth.
SILVIA. Go to thy lady's grave, and call hers thence;
Or, at the least, in hers sepulchre thine.
JULIA. [Aside] He heard not that.
PROTEUS. 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.
JULIA. [Aside] If 'twere a substance, you would, sure,
deceive it
And make it but a shadow, as I am.
SILVIA. I am very loath 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.
PROTEUS. As wretches have o'ernight
That wait for execution in the morn.
Exeunt PROTEUS and SILVIA
JULIA. Host, will you go?
HOST. By my halidom, I was fast asleep.
JULIA. Pray you, where lies Sir Proteus?
HOST. Marry, at my house. Trust me, I think 'tis almost day.
JULIA. Not so; but it hath been the longest night
That e'er I watch'd, and the most heaviest. Exeunt
SCENE 3. Under SILVIA'S window
Enter EGLAMOUR
EGLAMOUR. This is the hour that Madam Silvia
Entreated me to call and know her mind;
There's some great matter she'd employ me in.
Madam, madam!
Enter SILVIA above, at her window
SILVIA. Who calls?
EGLAMOUR. Your servant and your friend;
One that attends your ladyship's command.
SILVIA. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good morrow!
EGLAMOUR. As many, worthy lady, to yourself!
According to your ladyship's impose,
I am thus early come to know what service
It is your pleasure to command me in.
SILVIA. 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 abhors.
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 rewards 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.
EGLAMOUR. 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?
SILVIA. This evening coming.
EGLAMOUR. Where shall I meet you?
SILVIA. At Friar Patrick's cell,
Where I intend holy confession.
EGLAMOUR. I will not fail your ladyship. Good morrow, gentle
lady.
SILVIA. Good morrow, kind Sir Eglamour. Exeunt
SCENE 4. Under SILVIA'S Window
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
sav'd
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. 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
hang'd for't; sure as I live, he had suffer'd for't. You
shall
judge. He thrusts me himself into the company of three or
four
gentleman-like dogs under the Duke's table; he had not been
there, bless the mark, a pissing while but all the chamber
smelt
him. 'Out with the dog' says one; 'What cur is that?' says
another; 'Whip him out' says the third; 'Hang 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 dogs.
'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 stock for puddings he hath
stol'n, otherwise he had been executed; I have stood on the
pillory for geese he hath kill'd, otherwise he had suffer'd
for't. Thou think'st not of this now. Nay, I remember the
trick
you serv'd me when I took my leave of Madam Silvia. Did not I
bid
thee still mark me and do as I do? When didst thou see me
heave
up my leg and make water against a gentlewoman's farthingale?
Didst thou ever see me do such a trick?