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 betrothed. And art thou not ashamed
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. Exit
PROTEUS
As wretches have o’ernight,
That wait for execution in the morn.
Exit
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 watched, and the most heaviest.
Exeunt
4.3 Enter Sir 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]
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 accomplished.
Thou art not ignorant what dear good will
I bear unto the banished Valentine,
Nor how my father would enforce me marry
Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhors.
Thyself hast loved, 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 vowed’st 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 placed,
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
4.4 Enter Lance and his dog Crab
LANCE (to the audience) 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 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 hanged for’t. Sure as I live, he had suffered 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 smelled 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 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. (To Crab) Thou think’st not of this now. Nay, I remember the trick you served 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?
Enter Proteus, with Julia dressed as a page-boy
PROTEUS (to Julia)
Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well,
And will employ thee in some service presently.
JULIA
In what you please. I’ll do what I can.
PROTEUS
I hope thou wilt.—How now, you whoreson peasant,
Where have you been these two days loitering?
LANCE Marry, sir, I carried Mistress Silvia the dog you bade me.
PROTEUS And what says she to my little jewel?
LANCE Marry, she says your dog was a cur, and tells you currish thanks is good enough for such a present.
PROTEUS But she received my dog?
LANCE No indeed did she not. Here have I brought him back again.
&nb
sp; PROTEUS What, didst thou offer her this from me?
LANCE Ay, sir. The other squirrel was stolen from me by the hangman 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.
PROTEUS
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?
Exit Lance with Crab
A slave, that still on end turns me to shame.
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 lout,
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 delivered it to me.
JULIA
It seems you loved not her, to leave her token.
She is dead belike?
PROTEUS Not so. I think she lives.
JULIA
Alas.
Proteus Why dost thou cry ‘Alas’?
JULIA
I cannot choose but pity her.
PROTEUS
Wherefore shouldst thou pity her?
JULIA
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’.
PROTEUS
Well, give her that ring, and therewithal
This letter. (Pointing) 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
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 refused;
To praise his faith, which I would have dispraised.
I am my master’s true-confirmèd love,
But cannot be true servant to my master
Unless I prove false traitor to myself.
Yet will I woo for him, but yet so coldly
As, heaven it knows, I would not have him speed.
Enter Silvia
Gentlewoman, good day. I pray you be my mean
To bring me where to speak with Madam Silvia.
SILVIA
What would you with her, if that I be she?
JULIA
If you be she, I do entreat your patience
To hear me speak the message I am sent on.
SILVIA
From whom?
JULIA
From my master, Sir Proteus, madam.
SILVIA O, he sends you for a picture?
JULIA Ay, madam.
SILVIA Ursula, bring my picture there.
[An attendant brings a picture]
Go, give your master this. Tell him from me
One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget,
Would better fit his chamber than this shadow.
JULIA
Madam, please you peruse this letter.
She gives Silvia a letter
Pardon me, madam, I have unadvised
Delivered you a paper that I should not.
She takes back the letter and gives Silvia another letter
This is the letter to your ladyship.
SILVIA
I pray thee, let me look on that again.
JULIA
It may not be. Good madam, pardon me.
SILVIA
There, hold. I will not look upon your master’s lines.
I know they are stuffed with protestations,
And full of new-found oaths, which he will break
As easily as I do tear his paper.
She tears the letter
JULIA
Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring.
She offers Silvia a ring
SILVIA
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 have profaned the ring,
Mine shall not do his Julia so much wrong.
JULIA She thanks you.
SILVIA What sayst thou?
JULIA
I thank you, madam, that you tender her.
Poor gentlewoman, my master wrongs her much.
SILVIA
Dost thou know her?
JULIA
Almost as well as I do know myself.
To think upon her woes I do protest
That I have wept a hundred several times.
SILVIA
Belike she thinks that Proteus hath forsook her?
JULIA
I think she doth; and that’s her cause of sorrow.
SILVIA Is she not passing fair?
JULIA
She hath been fairer, madam, than she is.
When she did think my master loved her well
She, in my judgement, was as fair as you.
But since she did neglect her looking-glass,
And threw her sun-expelling mask away,
The air hath starved the roses in her cheeks
And pinched the lily tincture of her face,
That now she is become as black as I.
SILVIA How tall was she?
JULIA
About my stature; for at Pentecost,
When all our pageants of delight were played,
Our youth got me to play the woman’s part,
And I was trimmed in Madam Julia’s gown,
Which served me as fit, by all men’s judgements,
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 agood,
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.
SILVIA
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
JULIA
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
If I had such a tire, this face of mine
Were full as lovely as is this of hers
.
And yet the painter flattered 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 coloured 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.
She picks up the portrait
O thou senseless form,
Thou shalt be worshipped, kissed, loved, and adored;
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 used me so; or else, by Jove I vow,
I should have scratched out your unseeing eyes,
To make my master out of love with thee. Exit
5.1 Enter Sir Eglamour
EGLAMOUR
The sun begins to gild the western sky,
And now it is about the very hour
That Silvia at Friar 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!
SILVIA
Amen, amen. Go on, good Eglamour,
Out at the postern by the abbey wall.
I fear I am attended by some spies.
EGLAMOUR
Fear not. The forest is not three leagues off.
If we recover that, we are sure enough.
Exeunt
5.2 Enter Thurio, Proteus, and Julia dressed as a pageboy
THURIO
Sir Proteus, what says Silvia to my suit?
PROTEUS
O sir, I find her milder than she was,
And yet she takes exceptions at your person.
THURIO
What? That my leg is too long?
PROTEUS
No, that it is too little.
THURIO
I’ll wear a boot, to make it somewhat rounder.
JULIA (aside)
But love will not be spurred to what it loathes.
THURIO
What says she to my face?
The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works Page 17
