William Shakespeare - The Complete Works of William Shakespeare

PROTEUS.

But pearls are fair; and the old saying is:

‘Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies’ eyes.’

JULIA.

[Aside] ‘Tis true, such pearls as put out ladies’ eyes;

For I had rather wink than look on them.

THURIO.

How likes she my discourse?

PROTEUS.

Ill, when you talk of war.

THURIO.

But well when I discourse of love and peace?

JULIA.

[Aside] But better, indeed, when you hold your peace.

THURIO.

What says she to my valour?

PROTEUS.

O, sir, she makes no doubt of that.

JULIA.

[Aside] She needs not, when she knows it cowardice.

THURIO.

What says she to my birth?

PROTEUS.

That you are well deriv’d.

JULIA.

[Aside] True; from a gentleman to a fool.

THURIO.

Considers she my possessions?

PROTEUS.

O, ay; and pities them.

THURIO.

Wherefore?

JULIA.

[Aside] That such an ass should owe them.

PROTEUS.

That they are out by lease.

JULIA.

Here comes the duke.

[Enter DUKE.]

DUKE.

How now, Sir Proteus! how now, Thurio!

Which of you saw Sir Eglamour of late?

THURIO.

Not I.

PROTEUS.

Nor I.

DUKE.

Saw you my daughter?

PROTEUS.

Neither.

DUKE.

Why then,

She’s fled unto that peasant Valentine;

And Eglamour is in her company.

‘Tis true; for Friar Lawrence 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 toward Mantua, whither they are fled.

Dispatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me.

[Exit.]

THURIO.

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.]

PROTEUS.

And I will follow, more for Silvia’s love

Than hate of Eglamour, that goes with her.

[Exit.]

JULIA.

And I will follow, more to cross that love

Than hate for Silvia, that is gone for love.

[Exit.]

SCENE 3. Frontiers of Mantua. The forest.

[Enter OUTLAWS with SILVA.]

FIRST OUTLAW.

Come, come.

Be patient; we must bring you to our captain.

SILVIA.

A thousand more mischances than this one

Have learn’d me how to brook this patiently.

SECOND OUTLAW.

Come, bring her away.

FIRST OUTLAW.

Where is the gentleman that was with her?

SECOND OUTLAW.

Being nimble-footed, he hath outrun 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.

[Exeunt all except the First Outlaw and SYLVIA.]

FIRST OUTLAW.

Come, I must bring you to our captain’s cave.

Fear not; he bears an honourable mind,

And will not use a woman lawlessly.

SILVIA.

O Valentine, this I endure for thee!

[Exeunt.]

SCENE 4. Another part of the forest.

[Enter VALENTINE.]

VALENTINE.

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 thy presence, Silvia!

Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain. [Noise within.]

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.]

PROTEUS.

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.

VALENTINE. [Aside] How like a dream is this I see and hear!

Love, lend me patience to forbear awhile.

SILVIA.

O miserable, unhappy that I am!

PROTEUS.

Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came;

But by my coming I have made you happy.

SILVIA.

By thy approach thou mak’st me most unhappy.

JULIA. [Aside] And me, when he approacheth to your presence.

SILVIA.

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.

PROTEUS.

What dangerous action, stood it next to death,

Would I not undergo for one calm look!

O, ‘tis the curse in love, and still approv’d,

When women cannot love where they’re belov’d!

SILVIA.

When Proteus cannot love where he’s belov’d!

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’dst 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!

PROTEUS.

In love,

Who respects friend?

SILVIA.

All men but Proteus.

PROTEUS.

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 arms’ end,

And love you ‘gainst the nature of love,—force ye.

SILVIA.

O heaven!

PROTEUS.

I’ll force thee yield to my desire.

VALENTINE. [Coming forward.]

Ruffian! let go that rude uncivil touch;

Thou friend of an ill fashion!

PROTEUS.

Valentine!

VALENTINE.

Thou common friend, that’s without faith or love—

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 wouldst disprove me.

Who should be trusted, when one’s own right hand

Is perjur’d to the bosom? Proteus,

I am sorry I must never trust thee more,

But count the world a stranger for thy sake.

The private wound is deep’st. O time most curst!

‘Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst!

PROTEUS.

My shame and guilt confounds me.

Forgive me, Valentine; if hearty sorrow

Be a sufficient ransom for offence,

I tender ‘t here; I do as truly suffer

As e’er I did commit.

VALENTINE.

Then I am paid;

And once again I do receive thee honest.

Who by repentance is not satisfied

Is nor of heaven nor earth, for these are pleas’d.

By penitence the Eternal’s wrath’s appeas’d: