WH

look you,

SCEN E VI.

Enter Launce, with his dog.
Laun. HEN a man's servant shall play the cur with him,

it goes hard: one that I brought up of a puppy, one that I fav’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 went 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 fmelt him. "Out with the dog, says one; what cur is that? fays another; whip him out, says a 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 no more ado, but whips me out of the chamber. How many masters would do this for their servant ? nay, I'll be sworn I have fat in the stocks 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

ferv'd

me

All mark me, and do as I do? when didst thou see me heave

when I took my leave of madam Silvia ; did not I bid thee

mes

didit

,

thou ever see me do such a trick ?

Enter Protheus and Julia.
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, sir, what I can.

Pro. I hope, thou wilt. - How now, you whoreson peasant,
Where have you been these two days loitering ?

Laun. Marry, sir, I carry'd mistress Silvia the dog you bad me.
Pro. And what says she to my little jewel?

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

Pro. But she receiv’d my dog ?

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

Pro. What, did'st thou offer her this from me?

Laun. Ay, fir; the other, Squirrel, was stol’n from me by the hangman's boy in the market-place; and then I offer'd her mine own, who is a dog as big as ten of yours, and therefore the gift the greater.

Pro. Go, get thee hence, and find my dog again,
Or ne'er return again into my fight :
Away, I say; stay'st thou to vex me here?
A Nave, that ev'ry day turns me to shame.

[Exit Laun.
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

Therefore, know thou, for this I entertain thee.
Go presently, and take this ring with thee;
Deliver it to madam Silvia.
She lov'd me well, deliver'd it to me.

Jul. It seems, you lov'd not her, to leave her token:
She's dead, belike.

Pro. Not so: I think, she lives.
Jul. Alas!
Pro. Why do'st thou cry, alas?

Jul. I cannot choose
But pity her.

Pro. Why shouldst thou pity her?

Jul. Because, methinks, if she loves 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 that ring, and give therewithal
This letter ; that's her chamber : tell my lady,
I claim the promise for her heav'nly picture.
Your message done, hie home unto my chamber,
Where thou shalt find me sad and solitary. [Exit Pro.

SCENE VIII.

Jul. How many women would do such a message ?
Alas, poor Protheus ! thou hast entertain'd
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 I am, unhappy messenger,

Το

To
I am

But

Jul. If

To carry that which I would have refus'd;
Unless I prove false traitor to myself.

To plead for that which I would not obtain;
Praise his faith, which I would have disprais’d.

my master's true confirmed love,
Cannot be true servant to my master,

will I woo for him; but yet so coldly,
As, heav'n it knows, I would not have him speed.

Enter Silvia.
Lady, 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? you

be fhé, I do entreat your patience
To hear me speak the message I am sent on.

Sil. From whom ?
Jul. From my master fir Protheus, madam.
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,
On e Julia, that his changing thoughts forget,
would better fit his chamber than this shadow.

Jul. Madam, may't please you to peruse this letter.
Pardon me, madam, I have, unadvis'd,
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're stuff’d with protestations,
And full of new-found oaths, which he will break
As easily 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;
VOL.I.

Сс

For

For I have heard him say a thousand times,
His Julia gave it him at his departure:
Though his false finger have prophan'd the ring,
Mine îhall 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 know her ?

Juli Almost as well as I do know myself.
To think upon her woes, I do protest,
That I have wept an hundred several times.

Sil. Belike, she thinks that Protheus 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 lov’d her well,
She, in my judgment, was as fair as you.
But since she did neglect her looking-glass,
And threw her fun-expelling mask away,
The air hath starv'd the roses in her cheeks,
And pinch’d the lilly-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 trim'd in madam Julia's gown,
Which served me as fit, by all mens judgments,
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