SCENE I.
An Apartment in the Palace.
Enter Lord Thurio.
Thurio.
Well—I am certainly a person of considerable
attractions! Lady Silvia cannot
remain much longer unsubdu'd by a man of my accomplishments!
My last serenade was powerful! [Sings an affected
-- 47 --
voluntary.] But I must practice my new song—This must
bring her down. What! a man of my estate! my figure!
my parts! to be baffled thus long! 'tis insufferable, and must
not be endur'd.—
Enter sir Protheus, followed by Julia.
Sir Protheus, thou art my love-monger, and speakest skilfully,
—What says Silvia to my suit?
Pro.
My lord, I find her milder than she was,
And yet she takes exception to your person.
Thu.
How! at my person! what, that my leg is too long?
Pro.
No, that it is too little.
Thu.
Well—I can make it something rounder;
But what says she to my face?
Pro.
She says it is a fair one.
Thu.
Nay, then, the wanton lyes; my face is black.
Pro.
But pearls are fair; and the old saying is,
Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies eyes.
Julia. [Aside.]
And there are pearls that put out ladies eyes.
Thurio.
How likes she may discourse?
Pro.
Ill, when you talk of war.
Thurio.
But well, when I discourse of love and peace.
Julia. [Aside.]
But better, when you hold your peace.
Thurio.
What says she to my valour?
Pro.
O, my lord, she makes no doubt of that.
Julia. [Aside.]
Because, I suppose, his cowardice is recorded.
Thurio.
What says she to my birth?
Pro.
That you are well deriv'd.
Julia. [Aside.]
True, from a lord to a fool.
Thurio.
Considers she my possessions?
Pro.
Oh, ay, and wonders at them.
Thurio.
Wherefore?
Julia. [Aside.]
That such an ass should own them.
Thurio.
But, friend, what says she to my accomplishments?
My poetry, my music, and my voice?
Pro.
O my dear lord, we have not time t'enlarge
On all your parts—for see—here comes the duke—
Enter the Duke.
Duke.
How now, sir Protheus? how now Thurio?
Which of you saw sir Eglamour of late?
Thurio.
Not I.
Pro.
Nor I.
Duke.
Saw you my daughter?
Pro.
Neither.
-- 48 --
Duke.
Why then,
She's fled unto the banish'd Valentine;
And Eglamour is in her company.
'Tis true; for friar Laurence met them both,
As he in penance wander'd from 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 morn, 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 tow'rds Mantua, whither they fled.
Dispatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me.
[Exit Duke.
Thurio.
Why this it is to be a peevish girl,
That flies her fortune where it follows her:
I'll after more to be reveng'd of Eglamour,
Than for the love I bear to Silvia.
Pro.
And I will follow more for Silvia's love,
Than hate of Eglamour, that goes with her.
[Exit. Pro.
Julia.
And I will follow more to cross that love,
Than hate for Silvia, that is gone for love.
[Exit. Julia.
Thurio.
Nay if they're all for foll'wing—I'll stay here,
And polish up this jewel of my brain—which, were
It finish'd, would melt the coldest maid to
Raptures—[takes a song out] la, la, la.
This will do—an exquisite idea!—la, la, la.
Enter a Servant of the Duke's hastily.
Serv.
My lord—his grace is waiting for you—sir
Protheus has gallop'd off.—
Thurio.
And we'll gallop after him—fal, fal, fal.—
I'll wait upon his grace.
[Exit Servant.] fal, fal, fal.
[Exit Thurio singing.
SCENE I.
The Outlaws part of the forest.
Enter Valentine.
Val.
How use doth breed a habit in a man!
This shadowy desart! unfrequented woods!
I better brook than flourishing peopled towns.
-- 49 --
Here I can sit alone, unseen of any,
And to the nightingale's complaining notes,
Tune my distresses, and record 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!
[Hallowing heard at a distance.]
What hollo'ing, and what stir is this to-day?
These are my mates, that make their will their law,
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—they come this way.
Exit. Val.
Scene 3
SCENE a Part of the Forest.
Enter Launce, in a fright, follow'd by Crab.
Launce.
We are lost and undone! what will become of
us? what could my master mean by sending me into this
frightful forest, and saying he would follow? and then flew
away out of my sight like lightning! a man that follows a
young fellow in the pursuit of his mistress, might as safely
ride after the devil upon a broomstick.—I have seen
two or three horrid, ill looking fellows at a distance!—
and heard cries of distress! [looking about frighted.] Have mercy
on us!—ay—it is even so.—This is the place I have often
heard of at Milan—They say this forest is inhabited by
outlaws—cruel villains that eat men up alive!—What will
become of me and my poor fellow traveller? [cries] They will
roast poor Crab, and eat him for a tit bit! See—the
hearden'd wretch—he discovers no fears!—but he has more
prudence than I have—and perhaps more courage too—
however, I'll imitate his prudence—and appear valiant at
least. [Launce sings.]
“And when that he lost both his legs,—
“He fought upon his stumps.
I'm afraid that's more than I could do—or my friend Crab
either, [starting] have mercy on us! I thought it was a gun
levell'd at us—and 'tis only the wither'd branch of an old
tree! Ay—these are the dangers my poor mother (with tears
in her eyes) said her dear, sweet, boy would be expos'd to.
-- 50 --
[Enter three Outlaws, who present their guns at Launce.]
4 Out.
Stand here!
Launce. [trembling.]
Ay, dear, good gentlemen come and
hold me quickly, or I shan't be able to stand long.
4. Out.
Why do you tremble, friend?
Launce.
Ay, sir, it is a disease I am troubled with—it will
end with the falling-sickness—but I hope it wont cost me
my life.
4. Out.
That's as you behave—you must go before our
captain, and be search'd and examin'd—bring him along.
Launce.
Pray, good gentlemen—however you treat me,—
pray use my poor Crab with a little humanity.—
4. Out.
What, does the rascal insult us?—drag him along.
[Exeunt.
Enter three Outlaws, bringing in Silvia.
1. Out.
Come, come, madam, be patient; we must bring
you to our captain.
Sil.
A thousand more mischances than this one, have
learned me how to brook this patiently. Consider my sex and
breeding—you shall have noble ransom!
2. Out.
Come, bring her away.
1. Out.
Where's the gentleman that was with her?
2. Out.
Being nimble footed, he hath outrun us;
But Moyses and Valerius follow him,
The thicket is beset, he cannot 'scape—
Conduct the lady.—We'll follow him that fled—
Two of them run off, and leave the first Outlaw with Silvia.
1. Out.
Come, I must bring you to our captain's cave,
Fear not—he bears an honourable mind.—
Sil.
O Valentine! this I endure for thee!
[The Outlaw is leading Silvia off.
Protheus rushes on, follow'd by Julia, their swords drawn.
Pro.
Villain! unhand the lady, or thou dy'st
[The Outlaw runs off.]
Madam—this service I have done for you
(Though you respect not ought, your servant doth)
To hazard life, and rescue you from those,
That would have forc'd your life and honour from you—
Vouchsafe me for my meed but one kind look;
A smaller boon than this I cannot beg,
-- 51 --
And less than this, I'm sure you cannot give.
Sil.
O miserable! unhappy that I am!
[Here the Outlaw that was driven off, returns with Valentine.]
Pro.
Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came;
But by my coming I have made you happy.
Val. [Aside.]
Silvia! love lend me patience to forbear awhile!
Sil.
By thy approach, thou mak'st me most unhappy—
I'd rather be the hungry lion's prey,
Than have false, perjur'd Protheus rescue me!
Oh! heav'n 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,
Do I detest false, perjur'd Protheus!
Therefore begone, solicit me no more.
Pro.
What dangerous action, stood it next to death,
Would I not undergo for one calm look?
Oh! 'tis the curse in love, and still approv'd,
When women cannot love, where they're belov'd!
Sil.
When Protheus cannot love where he's belov'd!
Read over Julia's heart, thy first, best, love!
For whose dear sake thou then didst rend thy faith
Into a thousand oaths! and all those oaths
Descended into perjury! false man!
Thou counterfeit to thy true friend, Valentine!
Pro.
In love who respects friends?
Sil.
All men but Protheus.
Pro.
Nay, if the gentle spirit of moving words
Can no way change you to a milder form,
I'll move you like a soldier, at arms end,
And force you.
[He seizes her.]
Sil.
O Heavens!
Val. [comes forward]
Ruffian! let go that rude, uncivil touch!
Thou friend of an ill fashion! Seize him.
Pro. [starting.]
Valentine!
[Protheus retires to the side of the scene, guarded, by the Outlaws, and attended by Julia.]
Val.
My dearest Silvia,
[runs and catches her in his arms.]
Kind heav'n has heard my fervent prayer!
And brought my faithful Silvia to my arms!
There is no rhetorick can express my joy!
Sil.
It is delusion all! alas! we dream!
And must awake to wretchedness again!
O Valentine! we are beset with dangers!
Val.
Dismiss those fears, my love;—here, I command!
No power on earth shall ever part us more.
[Turning to Proth.]
-- 52 --
Thou common friend! that's without faith or love!
For such a friend is now! thou treach'rous man!
Thou hast beguil'd my hopes; nought but mine eye
Could have persuaded me: now, I dare not say
I have one friend alive! thou would'st disprove me.
Who should be trusted now, when the right hand
Is perjur'd to the bosom? Protheus,
I'm sorry I must never trust thee more,
But count the world a stranger for thy sake.
The private wound is deepest: O time accurst!
When, among foes, a friend shou'd be the worst!
Prepare for death.
Pro.
My shame and guilt confound me—
If to repent—if hearty sorrow
Be a sufficient ransom for offence,
I tender't here: I do as freely suffer,
As e'er I did commit—I merit death.
Jul.
Ah me, unhappy—
[swoons.]
Silvia.
Look to the youth.
Val.
Why boy! how now? what's the matter? look up—
speak.—
Julia. [on the ground.]
O good sir, my master charg'd me to
deliver a ring to madam Silvia, which out of my neglect, was
never done.
Pro.
Where is that ring, boy?
Julia.
Here 'tis.
[gives the ring.]
Pro.
How? let me see!
This is the ring I gave to Julia!
Julia.
Oh, cry you mercy, sir, I have mistook;
This is the ring you sent to Silvia.
Pro.
How can'st thou by this ring? at my depart I gave this
unto Julia!
Julia.
And Julia herself did give it me,
And Julia herself hath brought it hither.
[rising from the ground]
Pro.
How! Julia!
Julia.
Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths;
And entertain'd them deeply in her heart:
How oft hast thou with perjury cleft the root?
—Oh, Protheus, let this habit make thee blush!
Be thou asham'd, that I have took upon me
Such an immodest rayment! If shame live
In a disguised love—
It is the lesser blot modesty finds,
Women to change their shapes, than men their minds.
Pro.
Than men their minds? 'tis true: oh heav'n! were man.
-- 53 --
But constant, he were perfect; that one error
Fills him with faults; makes him run through all 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?
Sil.
Come, come, a hand from either—
[She joins the hands of Protheus and Julia; and then takes the hand of Valentine to give to Protheus.]
Let me be blest to make this happy close:
Nor must such friends as you be longer foes.
Pro.
If the poor penitent can be forgiven?
Val.
Forgiven, say'st thou? Ay—thus I am paid
[embracing him
And once again I do receive thee honest:
Who by repentance is not satisfy'd,
Is not of heav'n, nor earth; for these are pleas'd:
By penitence th' Eternal's wrath's appeas'd!
Thy Valentine, and Julia, both are thine.
Pro.
Bear witness, heav'n! I have my wish for ever.
Jul.
And I mine.
[A noise is heard without, A prize! a prize!]
Enter Outlaws with the Duke and Thurio.
Val.
Forbear, forbear—It is my lord the duke.
Your grace is welcome to a man disgrac'd,
The banish'd Valentine!
Duke.
Sir Valentine!
Thurio.
Yonder is Silvia! and Silvia is mine.
[Advancing.
Val. [draws.]
Thurio, give back; or else embrace thy death!
Come not within the measure of my wrath.
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.
Not I! sir Valentine, I care not for her—
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.
Duke.
O thou poor, thou base, degenerate lord!
I see my error now—and not too late, thank heav'n.
—Now by the honour of my ancestry.
I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine!
And think thee worthy of an empress' love!
Know then, I here forget all former griefs;
Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again,
Plead a new state in thy inrivall'd merit,
-- 54 --
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.
[presenting Silvia to Valentine.]
Val.
I thank your grace; the gift hath made me happy.
Enter Speed, with a disguise on his arm.
Speed.
Well—since his grace hath made my good master
happy, I beg I may have leave to make him and this good
company merry; I only pray you to conceal your faces a little,
and I'll introduce two of the most comical prisoners that ever
were yet taken in this forest—
[He claps on his disguise.]
Here my brethren—Bring them along—
[The Outlaws drag in Launce, and his dog Crab, Launce crying.]
Speed.
Why, you crying, whoreson knave, what's the matter
with you? Are you afraid of dying?
Launce.
Yes, dear sir—because the poor family of the
Launces we left behind us in Verona, will break their hearts
when they hear of our untimely end—poor Crab and I—ay—
this comes of travelling into foreign parts for improvement.
1. Out.
Come, come, you whining rascal, no more complaining,
prepare to die like a man.
Speed.
Why, your companion, Crab, here, behaves better
than you—he don't take on so—he don't shed one tear.
Launce.
No—no—he has no bowels—he is hard-hearted—
I knew that before—He won't shed one tear if you were to
execute me (his best friend) before his face—when I should
drown myself in tears, if you were to put him to the least
torture—but we are not all made alike—and yet, we are sometimes
doom'd to suffer alike—
Speed.
Come, let us be contented with one of their lives—
let them draw lots which shall suffer.
1. Out.
Agreed.
Speed.
Come—draw—the longest straw lives.
Launce.
Ah, dear sir,—I cannot die—nor can I live, if you
kill my poor Crab.
[The company burst into a laughter; Launce seems amaz'd.]
Speed. [uncovers.]
Why, Launce! why the fright you are in
about dying, takes away your eye-sight! why you can't see
your best friends? Permit me, my dear Launce, to welcome
you to the forest.
[Takes his hand.
Launce.
What do I see? I shall lose my breath! I shall
now certainly die with joy! what! my master? Sir Valentine,
-- 55 --
the duke, and the whole court!—I am disgrac'd! I am undone.
Who the devil would have thought of such a masquerade trick
as this?
[All come forward.]
Val.
'Tis well—all here are friends—my noble lord,
I now beseech you, for you 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 endu'd with worthy qualities:
Forgive them what they have committed here,
And let them be recall'd from their exile.
They are reform'd, civil, full of good,
And fit for many useful employments—
Duke.
Thou hast pevail'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.
Val.
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 worthy lord?
Duke.
I think the boy hath grace in him;—he blushes.
Val.
I warrant you, my lord, more grace than boy.
Duke.
What mean you by that saying?
Val.
Please you, I'll tell you as you pass along,
That you will wonder what hath fortun'd.
Come, Protheus, 'tis your penance but to hear
The story of your loves discover'd:
That done, our day of marriage shall be yours,
One feast, one house, one mutual happiness,
Pro.
A convert to this truth I stand confess'd,
That lovers must be faithful, to be bless'd.
[Exeunt omnes.
