Milan. Outside the DUKE'S palace, under SILVIA'S window
Enter PROTEUS PROTEUS Already have I been false to Valentine,
And now I must be as unjust to Thurio.
Under the colour of commending him
I have access my own love to prefer;
But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy,
To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.
When I protest true loyalty to her,
She twits me with my falsehood to my friend;
When to her beauty I commend my vows,
She bids me think how I have been forsworn
In breaking faith with Julia whom I lov'd;
And notwithstanding all her sudden quips,
The least whereof would quell a lover's hope,
Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love
The more it grows and fawneth on her still.
Enter THURIO and MUSICIANS But here comes Thurio. Now must we to her window,
And give some evening music to her ear.
THURIO How now, Sir Proteus, are you crept before us?
PROTEUS Ay, gentle Thurio; for you know that love
Will creep in service where it cannot go.
THURIO Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here.
PROTEUS Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence.
THURIO Who? Silvia?
PROTEUS Ay, Silvia- for your sake.
THURIO I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen,
Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile.
Enter at a distance, HOST, and JULIA in boy's clothes HOST Now, my young guest, methinks you're allycholly; I pray you,
why is it?
JULIA Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry.
HOST Come, we'll have you merry; I'll bring you where you shall
hear music, and see the gentleman that you ask'd for.
JULIA But shall I hear him speak?
HOST Ay, that you shall.
[Music plays] JULIA That will be music.
HOST Hark, hark!
JULIA Is he among these?
HOST Ay; but peace! let's hear 'em.
SONG
Who is Silvia? What is she,
That all our swains commend her?
Holy, fair, and wise is she;
The heaven such grace did lend her,
That she might admired be.
Is she kind as she is fair?
For beauty lives with kindness.
Love doth to her eyes repair,
To help him of his blindness;
And, being help'd, inhabits there.
Then to Silvia let us sing
That Silvia is excelling;
She excels each mortal thing
Upon the dull earth dwelling.
'To her let us garlands bring.
HOST How now, are you sadder than you were before?
How do you, man? The music likes you not.
JULIA You mistake; the musician likes me not.
HOST Why, my pretty youth?
JULIA He plays false, father.
HOST How, out of tune on the strings?
JULIA Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my very
heart-strings.
HOST You have a quick ear.
JULIA Ay, I would I were deaf; it makes me have a slow heart.
HOST I perceive you delight not in music.
JULIA Not a whit, when it jars so.
HOST Hark, what fine change is in the music!
JULIA Ay, that change is the spite.
HOST You would have them always play but one thing?
JULIA I would always have one play but one thing.
But, Host, doth this Sir Proteus, that we talk on,
Often resort unto this gentlewoman?
HOST I tell you what Launce, his man, told me: he lov'd her out of
all nick.
JULIA Where is Launce?
HOST Gone to seek his dog, which to-morrow, by his master's
command, he must carry for a present to his lady.
JULIA Peace, stand aside; the company parts.
PROTEUS Sir Thurio, fear not you; I will so plead
That you shall say my cunning drift excels.
THURIO Where meet we?
PROTEUS At Saint Gregory's well.
THURIO Farewell.
Exeunt THURIO and MUSICIANS 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