Pro.
Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well,
And will employ thee in some service presently.

Jul.
In what you please: I'll do ^note what I can.

Pro.
I hope thou wilt. [To Launce] How now, you whoreson peasant!
Where have you been these two days loitering?

Launce.

Marry, sir, I carried Mistress Silvia the dog you bade me.

Pro.

And what says she to my little jewel?

Launce.

Marry, she says your dog was ^note a cur, and tells you currish thanks is good enough for such a present.

Pro.

But she received my dog?

Launce.

No, indeed, did she ^note not: here have I brought him back again.

Pro.

What, didst thou offer her this ^note from me?

Launce.

Ay, sir; the other squirrel ^note was stolen from me by the hangman boys ^note 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. ^note

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? [Exit Launce ^note.
A slave, that still an end ^note 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 yond 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 ^note, for this I entertain thee ^note.
Go presently, and take this ring with thee,
Deliver it to Madam Silvia:
She loved me well deliver'd it to me.

Jul.
It seems you loved not her, to leave ^note her token.
She is dead, belike?

Pro.
Not so; I think she lives.

Jul.
Alas!

Pro.
Why dost thou cry, ‘alas’?

Jul.
I cannot choose
But pity her.

Pro.
Wherefore ^note shouldst thou pity her?

Jul.
Because methinks that ^note 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!’

Pro.
Well, give her ^note that ring, and therewithal ^note
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 ^note.

Jul.
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 ^note, 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-confirmed 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, attended ^note.
Gentlewoman ^note, good day! I pray you, be my mean
To bring me where to speak with Madam Silvia.

Sil.
What would you with her, if that I be she?

Jul.
If you be she, I do entreat your patience
To hear me speak the message I am sent on.

Sil.
From whom?

Jul.
From my master, ^note Sir Proteus, madam. ^note

Sil.
O, he sends you for a picture.

Jul.
Ay, madam.

Sil.
Ursula, bring my picture there.
Go give your master this: tell him, from me,
One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget ^note,
Would better fit his chamber than this shadow.

Jul.
Madam, please you peruse ^note this letter.—
Pardon me, madam; I have unadvised
Deliver'd you a paper that I should not:
This is the letter to your ladyship.

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 easily ^note 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.
Though his false finger have profaned the ring,
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 ^note know her?

Jul.
Almost as well as I do know myself:

To think upon her woes I do protest
That I have wept a 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 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 pinch'd ^note 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,
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 served me as fit, by all men's judgements ^note,
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 ^note,
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 ^note not her very sorrow!

Sil.
She is beholding ^note to thee, gentle youth.
Alas, poor lady, desolate and left!
I weep myself to think upon thy words.
Here, youth, there is my purse ^note: I give thee this

For thy sweet mistress' sake, because thou lovest her.
Farewell ^note. [Exit Silvia, with attendants ^note.

Jul.
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' ^note 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 ^note, 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 ^note; and so are mine:
Ay, but her forehead's low, and mine's as high ^note.
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, loved, and adored!
And, were there sense in his idolatry,
My substance should be statue ^note 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 scratch'd out your ^note unseeing eyes,
To make my master out of love with thee! [Exit. ^note

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