Pro. And that, my lord, I shall be loath to do;

'Tis an ill office for a gentleman ;

Especially against his very friend.

Duke. Where your good word cannot advantage him,

Your flander never can endamage him;
Therefore the office is indifferent,

Being entreated to it by your friend.

Pro. You have prevail'd, my lord: if I can do it,

By ought that I can speak in his dispraise,
She shall not long continue love to him.
But say, this wean her love from Valentine,
It follows not, that she will love fir Thurio.

Thu. Therefore, as you unwind her love from him,

Lest it should ravel, and be good to none,
You must provide to bottom it on me:
Which must be done, by praising me as much
As you in worth dispraise fır Valentine.

Duke. And, Protheus, we dare trust you in this kind,
Because we know, on Valentine's report,
You are already love's firm votary,
And cannot foon revolt, and change your mind.
Upon this warrant shall you have access,
Where you with Silvia may confer at large:
For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy,
And, for your friend's fake, will be glad of you;
Where you may temper her, by your perfuafion,
To hate young Valentine, and love my friend.

Pro. As much as I can do, I will effect.
But you, fir Thurio, are not sharp enough;
You must lay lime, to tangle her defires
By wailful fonnets, whose composed rhimes
Should be full fraught with serviceable vows.
Duke. Much is the force of heav'n-bred poefy.

Pro. Say, that upon the altar of her beauty
You facrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart:
Write 'till your ink be dry, and with your tears

Moist it again, and frame some feeling line
That may discover such integrity:
For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets finews,
Whose golden touch could foften steel and ftones,
Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans
Forsake unfounded deeps, and dance on sands.
After your dire-lamenting elegies,
Visit by night your lady's chamber-window
With some sweet concert: to their instruments
Tune a deploring dump; the night's dead filence
Will well become such sweet complaining grievance.
This, or else nothing, will inherit her.

Duke. This difcipline shows thou hast been in love.
Thu. And thy advice this night I'll put in practice;
Therefore, sweet Protheus, my direction-giver,
Let us into the city presently

To fort some gentlemen well skill'd in musick;
I have a fonnet that will serve the turn

To give the onset to thy good advice.

Duke. About it, gentlemen.

Pro. We'll wait upon your grace 'till after supper,

And afterwards determine our proceedings.

Duke. Ev'n now about it. I will pardon you.

ACT IV.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

A forest.

Enter certain out-laws.

I OUT-LAW.

DELLOWS, stand fast: I see a

FELLOWS

I fee a passenger.

2 Out. If there be ten, shrink not, but down with 'em.

Enter Valentine and Speed.

3 Out. Stand, fir, and throw us what you have about you; if not, we'll make you, fir, and rifle you.

Speed.

Speed. Sir, we are undone; these are the villains that all the

travellers fear so much.

Val. My friends,

1 Out. That's not fo, fir; we are your enemies.

2 Out. Peace; we'll hear him.

3 Out. Ay, by my beard, will we; for he is a proper man.

Val. Then know, that I have little left to lose:

A man I am, cross'd with adversity;

My riches are these poor habiliments,

Of which if you should here disfurnish me,

You take the fun and substance that I have.

2 Out. Whither travel you?

Val. To Verona.

1 Out. Whence came you?

Val. From Milan.

3 Out. Have you long sojourn'd there?

Val. Some fixteen months, and longer might have stay'd,

If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.

1 Out. What, were you banish'd thence?

Val. I was.

2 Out. For what offence?

Val. For that which now torments me to rehearse:

I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent;
But yet I flew him manfully in fight,
Without false vantage, or base treachery.

1 Out. Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so. But were you banish'd for so small a fault?

Val. I was, and held me glad of fuch a doom. 1 Out. Have you the tongues?

Val. My youthful travel therein made me happy,

Or else I often had been miferable.

3 Out. By the bare fcalp of Robin Hood's fat friar,

This fellow were a king for our wild faction.

1 Out. We'll have him. Sirs, a word.

Speed. Master, be one of them: it's an honourable kind of

thievery.

d of

Val. Peace, villain.

2 Out. Tell us this; have you any thing to take to?

Val. Nothing, but my fortune.

3 Out. Know then, that fome of us are gentlemen,

Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth
Thrust from the company of awful men :
Myself was from Verona banished,
For practising to steal away a lady,
An heir, and near ally'd unto the duke.
heir. and

2 Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman
Whom in my mood I stabb'd unto the heart.

1 Out. And I, for fuch like petty crimes as these.
But, to the purpose; for we cite our faults,
That they may hold excus'd our lawless lives;
And, partly, feeing you are beautify'd
With goodly shape, and, by your own report,
A linguist, and a man of fuch perfection
As we do in our quality much want.

2 Out. Indeed, because you are a banish'd man,

Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you;
Are you content to be our general?

To make a virtue of neceffity,

And live as we do in the wilderness ?

3 Out. What say'st thou ? wilt thou be of our confort?

Say ay, and be the captain of us all :

We'll do thee homage, and be rul'd by thee,

Love thee as our commander, and our king.

1 Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou dy'st.

2 Out. Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offer'd.

Val. I take your offer, and will live with you,
Provided, that you do no outrages
On filly women, or poor passengers.

3 Out. No, we detest such vile base practices.
Come, go with us, we'll bring thee to our crews,
And show thee all the treasure we have got;
Which, with ourselves, shall rest at thy dispose.

[Exeunt. SCENE

-

Pro.

A

SCENE II.

Changes to Milan.

Enter Protheus.

Valentine,

LREADY I've been falfe to
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 falfhood 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 fudden quips,
The leaft whereof would quell a lover's hope,
Yet, fpaniel-like, the more fhe spurns my love,
The more it grows, and fawneth on her still.
But here comes Thurio: now must we to her window,
And give some evening musick to her ear.

Enter Thurio and musicians.

Thu. How now, fir Protheus, are you crept before us?

Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio; for, you know, that love

Will creep in service where it cannot go.

Thu. Ay, but, I hope, fir, that you love not here.
Pro. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence.

Thu. Whom, Silvia?

Pro. Ay, Silvia, for your fake.

Thu. I thank you, for your own: now, gentlemen,

Let's tune, and to it luftily a while.

SCENE