Thu. 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.

Pro. And I will follow, more for Silvia's love, Than hate of Eglamour, that goes with her.

[Exit.

[Exit.

Jul. And I will follow, more to cross that love, Than hate for Silvia, that is gone for love.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

The Forest.

Enter SILVIA, and Outlaws.

1 Out. Come, come; be patient, we must bring you to our captain.

[Dragging her in.

Sil. A thousand more mischances than this one

Have learn'd me how to brook this patiently.

2 Out. Come, bring her away.

1 Out. Where is the gentleman that was with her? 3 Out. 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.

1 Out. Come, I must bring you to our captain's cave *. Fear not; he bears an honourable mind,

And will not use a woman lawlessly.

Sil. Oh Valentine! this I endure for thee.

[Exeunt.

7 a PEEVISH girl,] "Peevish" is equivalent to silly, or foolish: see also Vol. ii. p. 660; Vol. iii. pp. 375. 595. 729; Vol. iv. pp. 208. 330. 581; Vol. v. p. 178. &c. Stephen Gosson, in his "School of Abuse," 1579, reprinted for the Shakespeare Society in 1841, says, "We have infant poets and pipers, and such peevishe cattell among us in Englande."

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cave

8 Come, I must bring you to our captain's CAVE.] This line shows, that in the third Outlaw's speech, p. 139, ought, as here, to be in the singular; unless we suppose Valentine to have occupied one cave, and his followers another, which seems not very likely.

SCENE IV.

Another Part of the Forest.

Enter VALENTINE.

Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man!
These 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 10.
Oh! 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 !-
What halloing, and what stir, is this to-day?

[Shouts.

These my rude 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?

Enter PROTEUS, SILVIA, and JULIA.

[Stands apart.

Pro. Madam, this service I have done for you',

9 THESE shadowy, desert, unfrequented woods,] This is the line in the corr. fo. 1632, and much preferable to

"This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods"

of the old copies. Mr. Singer adopts, and what is more, openly acknowledges, this emendation, and he would be heartily welcome to all on the same fair terms.

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10 and RECORD my woes.] To "record" is to sing. In the novel of 'Apollonius of Tyre" (on which Shakespeare founded "Pericles") it is said of Tharsia, when she comes to sing before her father, "Then began she to record in verses, and therewithal to sing so sweetly," &c. 'Shakespeare's Library," Vol. i. p. 233. To "record" was usually applied to the singing of birds.

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1 These my RUDE mates,] "These are my mates "in the folios, but amended to our text in the corr. fo. 1632. Valentine might well call them "rude," when he added that "they made their wills their law."

2 Madam, this service I HAVE done for you,] A change is here proposed in the corr. fo. 1632: viz.

"Madam, this service having 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.
Val. How like a dream is this, I see, and hear!
Love, lend me patience to forbear awhile.

Sil. Oh, miserable! unhappy that I am!
Pro. Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came ;

But by my coming I have made you happy.

[Aside.

Sil. By thy approach thou mak'st me most unhappy.

Jul. [Aside.] And me, when he approaches to your

presence.

Sil. Had I been seized by a hungry lion,

I would have been a breakfast to the beast,
Rather than have false Proteus rescue me.
Oh, 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.

Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to death,
Would I not undergo for one calm look.

Oh! 'tis the curse in love, and still approv'd3,
When women cannot love, where they're belov❜d.
Sil. 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!

Pro.

In love

Who respects friend?

but, as we make as few alterations as possible in the original text, and as the

meaning of the poet is there quite evident, we leave it untouched.

3

and still APPROV'D,] i. e. Proved: a witness in Scottish courts of law is

still called "an approver."

4 Thou hast no faith left NOW,] "supplied in the folio of 1632."

Mr. Singer states that " now " has been here

This is surely an error: we have examined four

copies of the folio, 1623, and find "now" in all of them.

Sil.

All men but Proteus.

Pro. 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 you.
Sil. Oh heaven!

Pro.

I'll force thee yield to my desire.

Val. [Coming forward.] Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil

touch;

Thou friend of an ill fashion!

Pro. Valentine!

Val. 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 now, when one's right hand 3
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. Oh time accurst!

'Mongst all my foes, a friend should be the worst"!

Pro. My shame and desperate guilt at once confound 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.

Val.

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;

"Who should be trusted Now, when one's right hand] This is the reading of the folio of 1632: the folio of 1623 omits “now," and probably Mr. Singer alludes to this place. "Now" seems the proper word (for Valentine is speaking of the degeneracy of friendship at that time) and not own, which was inserted by Sir T. Hanmer, without authority, and adopted by Malone.

'Mongst all my foes, a friend should be the worst!] This is the reading of the corr. fo. 1632, and we can readily believe that the old text is corrupt, for it thus injures both meaning and metre:

"The private wound is deepest. Oh time most accurst!

'Mongst all foes, that a friend should be the worst!"

In the next line "desperate" and "at once" (not indeed necessary to the sense, but to the measure) are also from the corr. fo. 1632. The whole of this part of the scene is thus made sufficiently regular.

By penitence th' Eternal's wrath's appeas'd:
And, that my love may appear plain and free,
All that was mine in Silvia I give thee'.

Jul. Oh me unhappy!

Pro. Look to the boy.

Val. Why, boy! why, wag! how now! what's the matter? look up; speak.

Jul. Oh good sir! my master charg'd me to deliver a ring to madam Silvia, which, out of my neglect, was never done. Pro. Where is that ring, boy?

Jul.

Here 'tis this is it.
[Giving a ring.

Pro. How! let me see. Why, this is the ring I gave to Julia.

Jul. Oh! cry you mercy, sir; I have mistook: This is the ring you sent to Silvia.

[Showing another ring.

Pro. But, how cam'st thou by this ring? At my depart I gave this unto Julia.

Jul. And Julia herself did give it me; And Julia herself hath brought it hither.

Pro. How? Julia!

[Discovering herself.

Jul. Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths,
And entertain'd them deeply in her heart:
How oft hast thou with perjury cleft the root!
Oh Proteus! let this habit make thee blush:

7 All that was mine in Silvia I give thee.] Pope thought it "very odd for Valentine to give up his mistress at once, without any reason alleged ;" and there are difficulties in reconciling the words to the situation, and the situation to the words: we therefore willingly quote the following from Lamb's "Tales from Shakespeare," edit. 1831, p. 104:-"Proteus was courting Silvia, and he was so much ashamed of being caught by his friend, that he was all at once seized with penitence and remorse; and he expressed such a lively sorrow for the injuries that he had done to Valentine, that Valentine, whose nature was noble and generous, even to a romantic degree, not only forgave him and restored him to his former place in his friendship, but in a sudden flight of heroism he said, 'I freely do forgive you; and all the interest I have in Silvia, I give it up to you.' Julia, who was standing beside her master as a page, hearing this strange offer, and fearing Proteus would not be able with his new-found virtue to refuse Silvia, fainted, and they were all employed in recovering her: else would Silvia have been offended at being thus made over to Proteus, though she could scarcely think that Valentine would long persevere in this overstrained and too generous act of friendship." There is, at least, plausibility (as the Rev. Mr. Dyce urges in his "Remarks," p. 13) in thus getting over an admitted difficulty.

8 Behold her that GAVE AIM to all thy oaths,] To "give aim" is technical in archery, and was equivalent to to direct. See also Vol. iii. p. 140, and Vol. v. p. 87, for the distinction between "give aim" and " cry aim."