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.

Jul. But shall I hear him speak ?

Host. Ay, that you shall.

Jul. That will be music.

Host. Hark! hark!

Jul. Is he among these?

Host. Ay but peace, let's hear 'em.

SONG.

Who is Silvia? What is she,

[Music plays.

That all our swains commend her?

Holy, fair, and wise is she;

The heavens 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. Jul. You mistake; the musician likes me not. Host. Why, my pretty youth?

Jul. He plays false, father.

Host. How? out of tune on the strings?

Jul. Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my

very heart-strings.

Host. You have a quick ear.

Jul. Ay, I would I were deaf! it makes me have a slow heart.

Host. I perceive, you delight not in music.

Jul. Not a whit, when it jars so.

Host. Hark, what fine change is in the music! Jul. Ay; that change is the spite.

Host. You would have them always play but one thing?

Jul. 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 loved her out of all nick.

Pro. At saint Gregory's well.
Thu. Farewell. (Exeunt Thurio and Musicians.
Silvia appears above, at her Window.

Pro. Madam, good even to your ladyship.
Sil. I thank you for your music, gentlemen:

Who is that, that spake?

Pro. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth, You'd quickly learn to know him by his voice.

Sil. Sir Proteus, as I take it.

Pro. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant.
Sil. What is your will?
Pro.

That I may compass yours.
Sil. 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 deceived 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.

Pro. I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady;

But she is dead.

Sil.

Egl.

Silvia appears above, at her Window.

Who calls?

Your servant, and your friend;

One that attends your ladyship's command.
Sil. Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good-morrow.
Egl. As many, worthy lady, to yourself.
According to your ladyship's impose
I am thus early cor come to know what service
It is your pleasure to command me in.

Sil. O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman,
(Think not, I flatter, for, I swear, I do not),
Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplish'd.
Thou art not ignorant, what dear good will
I bear unto the banish'd Valentine;

abode;

Nor how my father would enforce me marry
Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhorr'd.
Thyself hast lov'd; and I have heard thee say,
No grief did ever come so near thy heart,
As when thy lady and thy true love died,
Upon whose grave thou vow'd'st pure chastity.
Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine,
To Mantua, where, I hear, he makes
And, for the ways are dangerous to pass,
I do desire thy worthy company,
Upon whose faith and honour I repose.
Urge not my father's anger, Eglamour,
But think upon my grief, a lady's grief;
And on the justice of my flying hence,
To keep me from a most unholy match,
Which heaven and fortune still reward with plagues.
I do desire thee, even from a heart

As full of sorrows as the sea of sands,
To bear me company, and go with me:
If not, to hide what I have said to thee,
That I may venture to depart alone.

Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances;
Which since I know they virtuously are plac'd,

I give consent to go along with you;

Recking as little what betideth me,

As much I wish all good befortune you.

When will you go?

Sil.

This evening coming.

At friar Patrick's cell,

Where I intend holy confession.

Egl. I will not fail your ladyship: Good-morrow, gentle lady.

Sil. Good-morrow, kind sir Eglamour, [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. The same.

Enter Launce, with his Dog.

Laun. When a man's servant shall play the cur

D

with him, look you, it goes hard one that I brought up of a puppy; one that I saved 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 was sent to deliver him, as a present to mistress Silvia, from my master; and I came no sooner into the diningchamber, 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 hanged 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) apissing while; but all the chamber smelt him. Out with the dog, says one; What cur is that? says another; Whip him out, says the 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 me 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 sat in the stocks for puddings he hath stolen, otherwise he had been executed: I have stood on the pillory for geese he hath killed, otherwise he had suffered for't thou think'st not of this now!-Nay, I remember the trick you served me, when I took my leave of madam Silvia; did not I bid thee still mark me, and do as I do? When didst thou see me heave up my leg, and make water against a gentlewoman's farthingale? didst thou ever see me do such a trick? Enter Proteus and Julia.

Crab; and goes

him back again.

Pro. What, didst thou offer her this from me?

Laun. Ay, sir; the other squirrel was stolen from me by the hangman's boys in the market-place: and then I offered her mine own; who is a dog as big as tep 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 sight. Away, I say: Stay'st thou to vex me here? A slave, that, still an end, turns me to shame.

[Exit Launce.

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 know thou, for this I entertain thee.
Go presently, and take this ring with thee,

Deliver it to madam Silvia:

She loved me well, deliver'd it to me.

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.

Jul. How many women would do such a message?
Alas! poor Proteus! 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?
Becanse he loves her, he despiseth me;
Because I love him, I I must ust pity him.
This ring I gave him, when he parted from me,
To bind him to remember my good will:
And now am I (unhappy messenger)
To plead for that which I would not obtain;
To carry that which I would have refus'd;
To praise his faith, which I would have disprais'd.
I am my master's true confirmed love;
But cannot be true servant to my master,
Unless I prove false traitor to myself.
Yet I will woo for him but yet so coldly,
As heaven, it knows, I would not have him speed.

Enter Silvia, attended.

Gentlewoman, 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, sir Proteus, madam.
Sil. O! He sends you for a picture?
Jul. Ay, madam.

Sil. Ursula, bring my picture there.

[Picture brought.

Go, give your master this tell him from me,
One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget,
Would better fit his chamber, than this shadow.

Jul. Madam, please you peruse this letter.-
Pardon me, madam; I have unadvis'd
Delivered 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 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 hath profan'd 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 know her?

[row.

Jul. Almost as well as I do know myself: To think upon her woes, I do protest, That I have wept an hundred several times. [her. Sil. Belike, she thinks that Proteus hath forsook Jul. I think she doth, and that's her cause of sorSil. 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 sun-expelling mask away, The air hath starv'd the roses in her cheeks, And pinch'd 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,

Pro. Not so; I think, she lives.

Jul. Alas!

Pro. Why dost thou cry, alas?

Jul. I cannot choose but pity her.

Pro. Wherefore shouldst thou pity her?

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 therewithal This letter;-that's her chamber. Tell my lady,

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 not her very sorrow!
Sil. She is beholden, to thee, gentle youth!-

Alas, poor lady! desolate and left!

Jul. And she shall thank you for't, if e'er you know A virtuous gentlewoman, mild, and beautiful. [her. I hope my master's suit will be but cold,

Since she respects my mistress' 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, 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; and so are mine:
Ay, but her forehead's low, and mine's as high.
What should it be, that he respec's 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, lov'd, and ador'd;
And, were there sense in his idolatry,

god

My substance should be statue in thy stead.
I'll use thee kindly for thy mistress' sake,
That us'd me so; or else, by Jove I vow,
I should have scratch'd out your unseeing eyes,
To make my master out of love with thee. [Exit.

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 leg is too long ?

Pro. No; that it is too little.

Thu. I'll wear a boot, to make it somewhat rounder. Pro. But love will not be spurr'd to what it loaths. Thu. What says she to my face?

Pro. She says, it is a fair one.

Thu. Nay, then the wanton lies; my face is black. 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.

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

Thu. What says she to my valour?

Pro. O, sir, she makes no doubt of that.

[Aside.

Jul. She needs not, when she knows it cowardice.

Neither.

Duke. Why, then she's fled unto that peasant Va[lentine;

And Eglamour is in her company.
"Tis true; for friar Laurence met them both,
As he in penance wander'd through 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 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 fled:
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 learn'd me how to brook this patiently.
2 Out. Come, bring her away.

1 Out. Where is the gentleman that was with her? 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 cave: Fear not; he bears an honourable mind, And will not use a woman lawlessly.

Sil. O Valentine, this I endure for thee! [Exeunt.
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.
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 with thy presence, Silvia;

Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain!-
What hallooing, 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 fore'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 a while. [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 By thy approach thou mak'st me most unhappy. Jul. And me, when he approacheth to your presence. [Aside.

[Aside.

[Aside.

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),

Jul. That such an ass should owe them. [Aside.

Pro. That they are out by lease.

Jul. Here comes the duke.

Enter Duke.

Therefore be gone, solicit me no more.

SCENE I. Windsor. Before Page's House.

Enter Justice Shallow, Slender, and Sir Hugh Evans. Shal. SIR Hugh, persuade me not; I will make a Star-chamber matter of it if he were twenty sir

John Falstaffs, he shall not abuse Robert Shallow, esquire.

Slen. In the county of Gloster, justice of peace, and coram. Shal. Ay, cousin Slender, and cust-alorum.

Slen. Ay, and ratolorum too; and a gentleman born, master parson; who writes himself armigero; in any bill, warrant, quittance, or obligation, armigero. Shal. Ay, that we do; and have done any time

these three hundred years.

Slen. All his successors, gone before him, have done't; and all his ancestors, that come after him, may: they may give the dozen white luces in their

coat.

Shal. It is an old coat.

Slen. I may quarter, coz ?

Shal. You may, by marrying.

Eva. It is marring indeed, if he quarter it.
Shal. Not a whit.

Eva. Yes, py'r lady; if he has a quarter of your coat, there is but three skirts for yourself, in my simple conjectures but that is all one if sir John Falstaff have committed disparagements unto you, I am of the church, and will be glad to do my benevolence, to make atonements and compromises between you.

Shal. The council shall hear it; it is a riot. Eva. It is not meet the council hear a riot; there is no fear of Got in a riot: the council, look you, shall desire to hear the fear of Got, and not to hear a riot; take your vizaments in that.

Shal. Ha! o' my life, if I were young again, the sword should end it.

Eva. It is petter that friends is the sword, and end it; and there is also another device in my prain, which, peradventure, prings goot discretions with it: there is Anne Page, which is daughter to master George Page, which is pretty virginity.

Slen. Mistress Anne Page? and speaks small like a woman.

She has brown hair,

Eva. It is that fery verson for all the 'orld, as just as you will desire; and seven hundred pounds of monies, and gold, and silver, is her grandsire, upon his death's-bed, (Got deliver to a joyful resurrections!) give, when she is able to overtake seventeen years old it were a goot motion, if we leave our pribbles and prabbles, and desire a marriage between master Abraham, and mistress Anne Page.

Shal. Did her grandsire leave her seven hundred pound?

Eva. Ay, and her father is make her a petter penny. Shal. I know the young gentlewoman; she has

good gifts.

Eva. Seven hundred pounds, and possibilities, is good gifts.

Mrs. Anne Page, her Daughter, in love with Fenton. Mrs. Quickly, Servant to Dr. Caius.

Servants to Page, Ford, &c.

SCENE, Windsor; and the Parts adjacent.

Shal. Well, let us see honest master Page: is Falstaff there ?

Eva. Shall I tell you a lie? I do despise a liar, as I do despise one that is false; or as I despise one that is not true. The knight, sir John, is there; and, I beseech you, be ruled by your well-willers. I will peat the door [Knocks] for master Page. What, hoa! Got pless your house here!

Enter Page.

Page. Who's there?

Eva. Here is Got's plessing, and your friend, and justice Shallow and here young master Slender; that, peradventures, shall tell you another tale, if matters grow to your likings.

Page. I am glad to see your worships well: I thank you for my venison, master Shallow.

Shal. Master Page, I am glad to see you; much good do it your good heart! I wished your venison better; it was ill killed: -how doth good mistress Paget-and I love you always with my heart, la; with my heart.

Page. Sir, I thank you.

Shal. Sir, I thank you; by yea and no, I do. Page. I am glad to see you, good master Slender. Slen. How does your fallow greyhound, sir? I

heard say, he was out-run on Cotsale.

Page. It could not be judg'd, sir.

Slen. You'll not confess, you'll not confess.

Shal. That he will not;-'tis your fault, 'tis your

fault:'tis a good dog.

Page. A cur, sir.

Shal. Sir, he's a good dog, and a fair dog; can there be more said? he is good and fair.-Is sir John Falstaff here?

Page. Sir, he is within; and I would I could de a good office between you.

Eva. It is spoke as a Christians ought to speak.
Shal. He hath wrong'd me, master Page.
Page. Sir, he doth in some sort confess it.

Shal. If it be confess'd, it is not redress'd; is not that so, master Page? he hath wrong'd me; indeed, he hath; at a word, he hath; believe me; -Robert Shallow, esquire, saith he is wrong'd.

Page. Here comes sir John.

Enter Sir John Falstaff, Bardolph, Nym, and Pistol. Fal. Now, master Shallow, you'll complain of me to the king?

Shal. Knight, you have beaten my men, killed my

deer, and broke open my lodge.

Fal. But not kiss'd your keeper's daughter?

Shal. Tut a pin this shall be answered.

Fal. I will answer it straight; -I have done all this that is now answer'd.

Shal. 'The council shall know this.

Fal. "Twere better for you, if it were known in counsel: you'll be laugh'd at.

Eva. Pauca verba, sir John, goot worts.

Fal. Good worts! good cabbage. Siender, I broke your head; what matter have you against me? Slen. Si Marry, sir, I have matter in my head against you; and against your coney-catching rascals, Bardolph, Nym, and Pistol. They carried me to the tavern, and made me drunk, and afterwards picked