« AnteriorContinuar »
SCENE II.-Milan. Court of the Palace.
Enter PROTEUS. Pro. Already have I been false to Valentine, 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 falsehood 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 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.
Pro. Ay, gentle Thurio ; for you know, that love
Thu. Ay, but, I hope, sir, that you love not here.
Thu. I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen, Let's tune, and to it lustily a while.
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 ask'd for.
Jul. But shall I hear him speak ?
That all our swains commend her?
The heavens such grace did lend her,
Is she kind, as she is fair ?
For beauty lives with kindness :
To help him of his blindness;
Then to Silvia let us sing,
That Silvia is excelling ;
Upon the dull earth dwelling :
Host. How now? are you sadder than you were be
Jul. You mistake; the musician likes me not.
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.
Host. You would have them play always 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?
Host. I tell you what Launce, his told me, he loved 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.
ne, lad.. Spake?
Silvia appears above, at her window.
Sil. I thank you for your music, gentlemen :
Pro. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth, You'd quickly learn to know him by his voice.
Sil. Sir Proteus, as I take it.
Sil. You have your wish; my will is even this,
Pro. I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady;
Jul. 'Twere false, if I should speak it; For, I am sure, she is not buried.
[Aside. Sil. Say, that she be; yet Valentine, thy friend, Survives; to whom, thyself art witness, I am betroth’d: And art thou not asham’d To wrong him with thy importúnacy?
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. He heard not that.
[Aside. 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 I will make true love.
Jul. If 'twere a substance, you would, sure, deceive it, And make it but a shadow, as I am.
[Aside. 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.
[Exeunt Proteus; and Silvia, from above, Jul. Host, will you go? Host. By my hallidom, 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.