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 is an honorable kind of thievery.
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 some of us are gentlemen, Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth

Thrust from the company of awful 1 men:
Myself was from Verona banished,
For practising to steal away a lady,

An heir, and near allied unto the duke.

2 Out. And I from Mantua, for a gentleman,

Who, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart.

1 Out. And I, for such like petty crimes as these.

But to the purpose, for we cite our faults,

That they may hold excused our lawless lives,
And, partly, seeing you are beautified

With goodly shape; and by your own report
A linguist; and a man of such perfection,
As we do in our quality 3 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 necessity,

And live, as we do, in this wilderness?

1 Lawful.

2 Anger.

3 Profession.

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

consort?

Say, ay, and be the captain of us all :

We'll do thee homage, and be ruled by thee,
Love thee as our commander, and our king.

1 Out. But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. 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 silly 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, all rest at thy dispose.

Milan.

SCENE II.

The court of the palace.

Enter PROTeus.

[Exeunt.

Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine,

And now I must be as unjust to Thurio.
Under the color 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 falshood 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 loved :
And, notwithstanding all her sudden quips,1
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.
But here comes Thurio; now must we to her window,
And give some evening music to her ear.

Enter THURIO, and musicians.

Thu. How now, sir Proteus ? 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, sir, that you love not here. Pro. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence. Thu. Who? Silvia?

Pro. Ay, Silvia,—for your sake.

Thu. I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen, Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile.

Enter HOST, at a distance; and JULIA in boy's clothes.

Host. Now, my young guest! methinks you're allycholly; I pray you, why is it?

Jul. 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 asked for.

1 Passionate reproaches and scoffs.

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.

:

[Music plays.

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: 1
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.

1 Beauty without kindness dies unenjoyed and undelighting.

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 then have them always play but one thing?

Jul. I would always have one play but one thing. But, host, doth this 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.1

Jul. 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.

Jul. Peace! stand aside; the company parts.

Pro. Sir Thurio, fear you not; I will so plead, That you shall say, my cunning drift excels.

Thu. Where meet we?

Pro. At saint Gregory's well.

Thu. Farewell.

[Exeunt Thurio and musicians.

Beyond all reckoning.