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I'll use thee kindly for thy mistress' sake,
That us'd me so; or else, by Jove, I vow,

BUENE I. THE SAME. AN ABBEY.

Enter Eglamour.

I should have scratch'd out your unseeing eyes,
To make my master out of love with thee. [exit.

ACT V.

Egl. The sun begins to gild the western sky;
And now, it is about the very hour

That Silvia, at 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!
Sil. Amen, amen! go on, good Eglamour!
Out at the postern by the abbey-wall;
I fear, I am attended by some spies.

[off;
Egl. Fear not: the forest is not three leagues
If we recover that, we are sure enough. [exeunt.
SCENE II. THE SAME. AN APARTMENT IN THE

DUKE'S PALACE.

Enter Thurio, Proteus, and Julia.
Thu. Sir Proteus, what says Silvia to my suit?
Pro. O, sir, I find her milder than she was;
And yet she takes exceptions at your person.
Thu. What, that my leg is too long?
Pro. No; that it is too little.
[rounder.
Thu. I'll wear a boot, to make it somewhat
Pro. But love will not be spurr'd to what it
Thu. What says she to my face?
Pro. She says, it is a fair one.

[loaths.
[black.

Thu. Nay, then the wanton lies; my face is
Pro. But pearls are fair; and the old saying is,
Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes.

Jul. 'Tis true; such pearls as put out ladies' eyes;
For I had rather wink than look on them. [aside.
Thu. How likes she my discourse?
Pro. Ill, when you talk of war.

[peace? Thu. But well, when I discourse of love and Jul. But better, indeed, when you hold your peace.

[aside.

Thu. What says she to my valour?
Pro. O, sir, she makes no doubt of that.
Jul. She needs not, when she knows it cowardice.
[aside.

Thu. What says she to my birth?
Pro. That you are well derived.
Jul. True; from a gentleman to a fool.
Thu. Considers she my possessions?
Pro. O, ay; and pities them.

Thu. Wherefore?

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 even; 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 towards Mantua, whither they are fied.
Despatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me. [exit.
Thu. Why, this it is to be a peevish girl,
That flies her fortune when it follows her:
I'll after; more to be reveng'd on Eglamour,
Than for the love of reckless Silvia.

[exit.

Pro. And I will follow, more for Silvia's love,
Than hate of Eglamour that goes with her. [exit
Jul. And I will follow, more to cross that love,
Than hate for Silvia, that is gone for love. [exit.

SCENE III. FRONTIERS OF MANTUA. THE FOREST.
Enter Silvia and Outlaws.

Out. Come, come;

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.
2 Out. Come, bring her away.

[her?
1 Out. Where is the gentleman that was with
3 Out. Being nimble-footed, he hath out-run us,
But Moyses and Valerius follow him.
Go thou with her to the west end of the wood,
There is our captain: we'll follow him that's fled:
The thicket is beset, he cannot 'scape.

1 Out. Come, I must bring you to our captain's Fear not; he bears an honourable mind, [cave: And will not use a woman lawlessly.

Sil. O Valentine, this I endure for thee! [exeună

SCENE IV. ANOTHER PART OF THE FOREST.
Enter Valentine.

Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man:
This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,
I better brook than flourishing peopled towns:
Here can I sit alone, unseen of any,

And, to the nightingale's complaining notes,
Tune my distresses, and record my woes.

[aside. 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!

Jul. That such an ass should owe them. [aside. Repair me with thy presence, Silvia;
Pro, That they are out by lease.
Jul. Here comes the duke.

Enter Duke.

Duke. How now, sir Proteus? how now, Thurio?
Which of you saw sir Eglamour of late?
Thu. Not I.

Pro. Nor I.

Duke. Saw you my daughter?

Pro. Neither.

Duke. Why, then she's filed unto that peasant
And Eglamour is in her company. [Valentine;
'Tis true; for friar Laurence met them both,
As he in penance wander'd through the forest:

Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain!-
What halloing, and what stir, is this to-day?
These are my mates, that make their wills 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; who's this comes here?
[steps aside.

Enter Proteus, Silvia, and Julia.
Pro. Madam, this service I have done for you,
(Though you respect not aught your servant doth,}
To hazard life, and rescue you from him
That would have forc'd your honour and your love

Vouchsafe me, for my meed, but one fair look;
A smaller boon than this I cannot beg,
And less than this, I am sure, you cannot give.
Val. How like a dream is this I see and hear!
Love, lend me patience to forbear awhile. [aside.
Sil. O miserable, unhappy that I am!
Pro. Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came;
But, by my coming, I have made you happy.
Sil. By thy approach thou mak'st me most
unhappy.

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Jul. 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?
[aside.

Jul. And me, when he approacheth to your
presence.

Sil. Had I been seized by a hungry lion,
I would have been a breakfast to the beast,
Rather than have false Proteus rescue me.
O, heaven 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,)
I do detest false perjur'd Proteus :
Therefore be gone, solicit me no more.

Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to
Would I not undergo for one calm look? [death,
O, 'tis the curse in love, and still approv'd,
When women cannot love where they're belov'd.
Sil. When Proteus cannot love where he's
beloved.

Read over Julia's heart, thy first best love,
For whose dear sake thou didst then rend thy faith
Into a thousand oaths; and all those oaths
Descended into perjury, to love me.

Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou hadst two,
And that's far worse than none; better have none
Than plural faith, which is too much by one:
Thou counterfeit to thy true friend!

Pro. In love,

Who respects friends?

Sil. All men but Proteus.

Pro. Nay, if the gentle spirit of moving words
Can no way change you to a milder form,
I'll woo you like a soldier, at arm's end;

[gives a ring

Jul. Here 'tis: this is it.
Pro. How! let me see:
Why this is the ring I gave to Julia.
Jul. O, cry you mercy, sir, I have mistook;
This is the ring you sent to Silvia.

[shows another ring. Pro. But how cam'st thou by this ring? at my depart,

I gave it unto Julia.

Jul. And Julia herself did give it me;
And Julia herself hath brought it hither.
Pro. How! Julia!

Jul. 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!
O Proteus, let this habit make thee blush!
Be thou asham'd that I have took upon me
Such an immodest raiment; if shame live
In a disguise of love:

It is the lesser blot, modesty finds,

Women to change their shapes, than men their minds.

Pro. Than men their minds! 'tis true: 0
heaven; were man

But constant, he were perfect: that one error
Fills him with faults; makes him run througb
Inconstancy falls off, ere it begins: [all sins:
What is in Silvia's face, but I may spy

And love you 'gainst the nature of love, force you. More fresh in Julia's with a constant eye?
Sil. O heaven!

Pro. I'll force thee yield to my desire.

Val. Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil touch; Thon friend of an ill fashion!

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Val. Thou common friend, that's without faith
(For such is a friend now,) treacherous 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 one's right
Is perjur'd to the bosom? Proteus,

[hand

I am sorry I must never trust thee more,
But count the world a stranger for thy sake.
The private wound is deepest: O time, most curst!
Mongst all foes, that a friend should be the worst!
Pro. My shame and guilt confounds me.-
Forgive me, Valentine: if hearty sorrow
Be a sufficient ransom for offence,

I tender it here; I do as truly suffer,

Aş e'er I did commit.

Val. Then I am paid;

And once again I do receive thee honest.

Who by repentance is not satisfied,

Val. Come, come, a hand from either:
Let me be blest to make this happy close;
'Twere pity two such friends should be long foes.
Pro. Bear witness, heaven, I have my wish
Jul. And I have mine.
[for ever.
Enter Outlaws, with Duke and Thurio.
Out. A prize, a prize, a prize!
Val. Forbear, I say; it is my lord the duke.
Your grace is welcome to a man disgrac'd,
Banish'd Valentine.

Duke. Sir Valentine!

Thu. Yonder is Silvia; and Silvia's mine.
Val. Thurio, give back, or else embrace thy
Come not within the measure of my wrath; [death;
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. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I;
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. The more degenerate and base art thou,
To make such means for her as thou hast done,

ls nor of heaven, nor earth; for these are pleas'd; And leave her on such slight conditions.

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 unrivall'd merit,
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.
Val. I thank your grace; the gift hath made
me happy.

I now beseech you for your 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 endued with worthy qualities; Forgive them what they have committed here, And let them be recall'd from their exile: T'hey are reformed, civil, full of good,

And fit for great employment, worthy lord. Duke. Thou hast prevail'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 lord?

Duke. I think the boy hath grace in him; he blushes.

Val. I warrant you, my lord; more grace than Duke. What mean you by that saying? [boy: Val. Please you, I'll tell you as we pass along, That you will wonder what hath fortuned.Come, Proteus; 'tis your penance, but to hear The story of your loves discovered: That done, our day of marriage shall be yours: One feast, one house, one mutual happiness.

[exeunt.

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BEFORE THE PALACE OF ANTIOCH.

Enter Gower.

To sing a song of old was sung,
From ashes antient Gower is come;
Assuming man's infirmities,

To glad your ear, and please your eyes.
It hath been sung at festivals,
On ember-eves, and holy ales;
And lords and ladies of their lives

Have read it for restoratives:
'Purpose to make men glorious;
Et quo antiquius, eo melius.

If you, born in these latter times,

ACT I.

When wit's more ripe, accept my rhymes,
And that to hear an old man sing,
May to your wishes pleasure bring,
I life would wish, and that I might
Waste it for you, like taper-light.-
This city then, Antioch the great
Built up for his chiefest seat;
The fairest in all Syria

(I tell you what mine authors say):
This king unto him took a pheere,
Who died, and left a female heir,
So buxom, blithe, and full of face,
As heaven had lent her all his grace;
With whom the father liking took,
And her to incest did provoke:
Bad father! to entice his own,
To evil, should be done by none.
By custom, what they did begin,
Was, with long use, account no sin.
The beauty of this sinful dame
Made many princes thither frame,
To seek her as a bed-fellow,
In marriage-pleasures play-fellow:
Which to prevent, he made a law
(To keep her still, and men in awe),
That whoso ask'd her for his wife,
His riddle told not, lost his life:

So for her many a wight did die,
As yon grim looks do testify.

What now ensues, to th' judgment of your eye
I give, my cause who best can justify. [exit.

SCENE I. ANTIOCH. A ROOM IN THE PALACE.

Enter Antiochus, Pericles, and Attendants. Ant. Young prince of Tyre, you have at large The danger of the task you undertake. [received Per. I have, Antiochus, and with a soul Embolden'd with the glory of her praise, Think death no hazard, in this enterprise. [music. Ant. Bring in our daughter, clothed like a bride, For the embracements even of Jove himself; At whose conception (till Lucina reign'd,) Nature this dowry gave, to glad her presence, The senate-house of planets all did sit, To knit in her their best perfections.

Enter the Daughter of Antiochus. Per. See where she comes, apparell'd like the

spring,

Graces her subjects, and her thoughts the king
Of every virtue gives renown to men!
Her face the book of praises, where is read
Nothing but curious pleasures, as from thence
Sorrow were ever ras'd, and testy wrath
Could never be her mild companion.

Ye gods, that made me man, and sway in love,
That have inflam'd desire in my breast,
To taste the fruit of yon celestial tree,
Or die in the adventure, be my helps,
As I am son and servant to your will,
To compass such a boundless happiness!
Ant. Prince Pericles,-

Per. That would be son to great Antiochus.
Ant. Before thee stands this fair Hesperides,
With golden fruit, but dangerous to be touch'd s
For death-like dragons here affright thee hard
Her face, like heaven, enticeth thee to view
A countless glory, which desert must gain:
And which, without desert, because thino eye

Presumes to reach, all thy whole heap must die.
Yon sometime famous princes, like thyself,
Drawn by report, advent'rous by desire,
Tell thee with speechless tongues, and semblance
pale,

That, without covering, save yon field of stars,
They here stand martyrs, slain in Cupid's wars;
And with dead cheeks, advise thee to desist,
For going on death's net, whom none resist.

Per. Antiochus, I thank thee, who hath taught
My frail mortality to know itself,
And by those fearful objects to prepare
This body, like to them, to what I must:
For death remember'd, should be like a mirror,
Who tells us, life's but breath: to trust it, error.
I'll make my will then; and, as sick men do,
Who know the world, see heaven, but feeling woe,
Gripe not at earthly joys, as erst they did;
So I bequeath a happy peace to you,
And all good men, as every prince should do;
My riches to the earth, from whence they came;
But my unspotted fire of love to you.

[to the Daughter of Antiochus. Thus ready for the way of life or death, I wait the sharpest blow, Antiochus, Scorning advice.

Ant. Read the conclusion, then; Which read and not expounded, 'tis decreed, As these before thee, thou thyself shalt bleed. Daugh. In all, save that, may'st thou prove prosIn all, save that, I wish thee happiness! [perous! Per. Like a bold champion, I assume the lists, Nor ask advice of any other thought But faithfulness, and courage.

[He reads the Riddle.]

I am no viper, yet I feed

On mother's flesh that did me breed:
I sought a husband, in which labour,

I found that kindness in a father.
He's father, son, and husband mild,
I mother, wife, and yet his child.
How they may be, and yet in two,
As you will live, resolve it you.

Sharp physic is the last: but, O you powers! That give heaven countless eyes to view men's acts,

Why cloud they not their sights perpetually,
If this be true, which makes me pale to read it?
Fair glass of light, I lov'd you, and could still,

[takes hold of the hand of the Princess.
Were not this glorious casket stor'd with ill:
But I must tell you,-now my thoughts revolt;
For he's no man on whom perfections wait,
That, knowing sin within, will touch the gate.
You're a fair viol, and your sense the strings ;
Who, finger'd to make man his lawful music,
Would draw heaven down, and all the gods to

hearken;

But, being play'd upon before your time,

Hell only danceth at so harsh a chime:

Good sooth, I care not for you.

Who has a book of all that monarchs do,
He's more secure to keep it shut, than shown;
For vice repeated, is like the wand'ring wind,
Blows dust in others' eyes to spread itself:
And yet the end of all is bought thus dear,
The breath is gone, and the sore eyes see clear:
To stop the air would hurt them. The blind
mole casts

Copp'd hills towards heaven, to tell, the earth is wrong'd

By man's oppression; and the poor worm doth
die for't.
[will;
Kings are earth's gods: in vice, their law's their
And if Jove stray, who dares say, Jove doth ill?
It is enough you know; and it is fit, [it.
What being more known, grows worse, to smother
All love the womb that their first beings bred,
Then give my tongue like leave to love my head.
Ant. Heaven, that I had thy head! he has
found the meaning ;—
[of Tyre,
But I will gloze with him. [aside.] Young prince
Though by the tenour of our strict edict,
Your exposition misinterpreting,
We might proceed to cancel of your days;
Yet hope, succeeding from so fair a tree
As your fair self, doth tune us otherwise:
Forty days longer we do respite you;
If by which time our secret be undone,
This mercy shows, we'll joy in such a son:
And until then, your entertain shall be,
As doth befit our honour and your worth.

[exeunt Ant. his Daugh. and Attend.
Per. How courtesy would seem to cover sin!
When what is done is like an hypocrite,
The which is good in nothing but in sight.
If it be true that I interpret false,
Then were it certain, you were not so bad,
As with foul incest to abuse your soul;
Where now you're both a father and a son,
By your untimely claspings with your child,
(Which pleasure fits an husband, not a father;)
And she an eater of her mother's filcsh,,
By the defiling of her parent's bed;
And both like serpents are, who though
On sweetest flowers, yet they poison breed.
Antioch, farewell! for wisdom sees, those
Blush not in actions blacker than the night,
Will shun no course to keep them from the light.
One sin, I know, another doth provoke;
Murder's as near to lust, as flame to smoke.
Poison and treason are the hands of sin,
Ay, and the targets, to put off the shame:
Then, lest my life be cropp'd to keep you clear, .
By flight I'll shun the danger which I fear. [cx.
Re-enter Antiochus.

Ant. He hath found the meaning, for the which

we mean

To have his head.

He must not live to trumpet forth my infamy

Ant. Prince Pericles, touch not, upon thy life, Nor tell the world, Antiochus doth sin
For that's an article within our law,

As dangerous as the rest. Your time's expir'd;
Either expound now, or receive your sentence.

Per. Great king,

Few love to hear the sins they love to act; 'Twould 'braid yourself too near for me to tell it.

In such a loathed manner:

And therefore instantly this prince must die; For by his fall my honour must keep high. Who attends on us there?

Enter Thaliard Thal. Doth your highness call?

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