By aught that I can speak in his difprai fe,
She shall not long continue love to him,
But fay, this weed her love from Valentine,
It follows not, that she will love Sir Thurio.

THU. Therefore as you unwind her love from him,
Left it fhould ravel, and be good to none,

You must provide to bottom it on me:

Which must be done, by praifing me as much

As

you in worth difpraise Sir 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, fhall 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 f friend.
PRO. As much as I can do, I will effect,
But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough;
You must lay lime, to tangle her defires,
By wailful fonnets, whofe compofed 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 fighs, your heart:
Write, 'till your ink be dry; and with your tears
Moift it again; and frame fome feeling line,
That discover fuch integrity :-

may For Orpheus' lute was ftrung with poets' finews; Whofe golden touch could soften steel and stones,

Make tygers tame, and huge Leviathans
Forfake unfounded deeps, to dance on fands.
After your dire-lamenting elegies,

Vifit by night your lady's chamber-window
With fome fweet concert: to their inftruments
Tune a deploring dump; the night's dead filence
Will well become fuch fweet complaining grievance.
This, or else nothing, will inherit her.

DUKE. This difcipline fhews, thou hast been in love.
THU. And thy advice this night I'll put in practice.
Therefore, fweet Protheus, my direction-giver,
Let us into the city presently

To fort fome gentlemen well skill'd in musick;

I have a fonnet, that will ferve the turn,

To give the onset to thy good advice.

DUKE. About it, gentlemen,

PRO. We'll wait upon your grace, 'till after fupper;

And afterwards determine our proceedings.

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

ACT IV.

SCENE I

A foreft, leading towards Mantua.

Enter certain Outlaws.

IOUT-LA W.

ELLOWS, ftand faft: I fee a paffenger.

[Exe.

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

Enter Valentine and Speed."

3 OUT. Stand, Sir, and throw us what you have about

you;

If not, we'll make you, Sir, and rifle you.

SPEED. Sir, we are undone; thefe are the villains, that all the travellers do fear. fo much.

VAL. My friends,·

I OUT. That's not fo, Sir; 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 wealth to lose :

A man I am, cro s'd with adversity;

My riches are these poor habiliments,

Of which if you should here disfurnish me, You take the fum and fubftance that I have. 2 OUT. Whither travel you?

VAL. TO Verona.

I OUT. Whence came you?
VAL From Milan.

3 OUT. Have you long fojourn'd there?

VAL. Some fixteen months; and longer might have staid, If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.

I OUT. What, were you banish'd thence ?

VAL. I was.

2 OUT. For what offence?

VAL. For what, which now torments me to rehearse :

I kill'd a man, whofe death I much repent;

But yet

I flew him manfully in fight,

Without falfe vantage or base treachery.

I OUT. Why ne'er repent it, if it were done fo.

But were you banish'd for fo fmall a fault?

VAL. I was, and held me glad of fuch a doom.

I OUT. Have you the tongues?

VAL. My youthful travel therein made me happy, Or elfe I often had been miferable.

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

This fellow were the king for our wild faction.

I OUT. We'll have him. Sirs, a word.

SPEED. Mafter be one of them: it's an honourable 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 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.

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

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

2 OUT. Indeed, becaufe you are a banish'd man, Therefore, above the reft, 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 fay'ft thou? wilt thou be 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.

E

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 deteft fuch vile bafe practices. Come, go with us, we'll bring thee to our crews. And fhew thee all the treasure we have got;

Which, with ourselves, fhall reft at thy difpofe. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Changes to an open place, under Silvia's apartment, in

Milan.

Enter Protheus.

PRO. Already I've been false to Valentine,
And now I must be as unjust to Thurio.
Under the colour of commending him,
I have accefs 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 forfworn
In breaking faith with Julia whom I lov'd.
And, notwithstanding all her fudden quips,
The least whereof would quell a lover's hope,
Yet, fpaniel-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 fome evening mufick to her ear.