And, notwithstanding all her sudden quips",
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. Whom? Silvia ?

Pro. Ay, Silvia,-for your sake.

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

[To the Musicians.

Enter Host and JULIA, behind; 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.
you shall hear music, and see the
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,

I'll bring you where gentleman that you

That all our swains commend her?

Holy, fair, and wise as free";

[Music plays.

sudden QUIPS,] i. e. Hasty reproaches, and scoffs. Robert Greene's tract, "A Quip for an Upstart Courtier," printed in 1592, is well known, and we need not cite other instances of the use of so common a word.

8 Holy, fair, and wise AS FREE;] We have no hesitation in inserting this valuable variation from the received text,

but is she has closed the corresponding line above, and "as free" (mistaken for is

The heaven 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.

[Music again.

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?

she) we are confident came from the poet's pen: he commonly uses "free" for pure and innocent, and that is precisely what is meant here. We owe the emendation to the corr. fo. 1632.

9 You would have them always play but one thing.] Malone, for some unexplained reason, inserted then after "would," but it is not in the old copies: to balance the account, he omitted "sir" in the next line but one. The old cor

rector of the fo. 1632, inserts not in the Host's question, but it seems a needless addition, making no real difference. Perhaps such was the recitation on the stage in his time, and he therefore added it to the speech.

Host. I tell you what Launce, his man, told me, he lov'd her out of all nick'.

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 not you: 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.

Enter SILVIA 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 would 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 your's.

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 deceiv'd 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.

Jul.

[Aside.] 'Twere false, if I should speak it;

For, I am sure, she is not buried.

Sil. Say, that she be; yet Valentine, thy friend, Survives, to whom thyself art witness

1

out of all NICK.] Beyond all reckoning or count. Reckonings were kept by hosts upon nicked, or notched sticks.

I am betroth'd; and art thou not asham'd
To wrong him with thy importunacy?

Pro. I likewise hear, that Valentine is dead.
Sil. And so, suppose, am I; for in his grave,
Assure thyself, my love is buried.

Pro. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth.
Sil. Go to thy lady's grave, and call her's thence;
Or, at the least, in her's sepulchre thine.
Jul. [Aside.] He heard not that.

Pro. Madam, if your heart be so obdurate,
Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love,
The picture that is hanging in your chamber:
To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep;
For, since the substance of your perfect self
Is else devoted, I am but a shadow,

And to your shadow will I make true love.

Jul. [Aside.] If 'twere a substance, you would, sure, de

ceive it,

And make it but a shadow, as I am.

Sil. I am very loth to be your idol, sir;

But, since your falsehood shall become you well
To worship shadows, and adore false shapes,
Send to me in the morning, and I'll send it.

And so, good rest.

Pro.

As wretches have o'er night,

That wait for execution in the morn.

Jul. Host, will you go?

[Exeunt PROTEUS and SILVIA.

Host. By my halidom', I was fast asleep.

Jul. Pray you, where lies sir Proteus?

Host. Marry, at my house. Trust me, I think, 'tis almost

day.

Jul. Not so; but it hath been the longest night That e'er I watch'd, and the most heaviest.

[Exeunt.

2 By my HALIDOM,] Minsheu thus explains this word: "Halidome or Holidome, an old word, used by all country women, by manner of swearing, by my halidome; of the Saxon word haligdome, ex halig, i. e. sanctum, and dome, dominium aut judicium." In a note to Heywood's "Edward IV. Pt. I." Mr. B. Field, the editor of the Shakespeare Society's reprint of that play, (p. 198,) contends that dom is a mere suffix corresponding with the German thum, and that "by my halidom means by my goodness, or by my holiness.

SCENE III.

The Same.

Enter EGLAMOUR.

Egl. This is the hour that madam Silvia Entreated me to call, and know her mind: There's some great matter she'd employ me in.— Madam, madam!

Enter SILVIA above, at her window.

Sil. Who calls?

Egl.

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 impose3,
I am thus early come, to know what service
It is your pleasure to command me in.

Sil. Oh 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;
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'dst pure chastity.
Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine,

To Mantua, where, I hear, he makes abode;
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;

3 your ladyship's IMPOSE,] i. e. Imposition, injunction, command.

4

66

REMORSEFUL,] i. e. Compassionate; remorse of old commonly meant

pity instances are too numerous for quotation.

: