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Alas, poor fool! Why do I pity him,
That with his very heart despiseth me?
Because he loves her, he despiseth me;
Because I love him, I must pity him.
This ring I gave him, when he parted from me,
To bind him to remember any good will:
And now am I (unhappy messenger)
To plead for that, which I would not obtain;
To carry that, which I would have refus’d;
To praise his faith, which I would have disprais’d.
I am my master's true confirmed love;
But cannot be true servant to my master,
Unless I prove false traitor to myself.
Yet I will woo for him ; but yet so coldly,
As, heaven, it knows, I would not have him speed.

Enter Silvia, attended. Gentlewoman, good day! I pray you, be my mean To bring me where to speak with madam Silvia.

Sil. What would you with her, if that I be she?

Jul. If you be she, I do entreat your patience
To hear me speak the message I am sent on.

Sil. From whom?
Jul. From my master, sir Proteus, madam.
Sil. O!-he sends you for a picture ?
Jul. Ay, madam.
Sil. Ursula, bring my picture there.

[Picture brought.
Go, give your master this : tell him from me,
One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget,
Would better fit his chamber, than this shadow.

Jul. Madam, please you peruse this letter.

Pardon me, madam; I have unadvis'd
Delivered you a paper that I should not ;
This is the letter to your ladyship.

Sil. I pray thee, let me look on that again.
Jul. It may not be; good madam, pardon me.

Sil. There, hold.
I will not look upon your master's lines :
I know, they are stuff’d with protestations,
And full of new-found oaths; which he will break,
As easily as I do tear his paper.

Jul. Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring.

Sil. The more shame for him that he sends it me;
For, I have heard him say a thousand times,
His Julia gave it him at his departure :
Though his false finger hath profan’d the ring,
Mine shall not do his Julia so much wrong.

Jul. She thanks you.
Sil. What say'st thou ?

Jul. I thank you, madam, that you tender her:
Poor gentlewoman! my master wrongs her much.

Sil. Dost thou know her ?

Jul. Almost as well as I do know myself :
To think upon her woes, I do protest,
That I have wept an hundred several times.

Sil. Belike, she thinks that Proteus hath forsook her.
Jul. I think she doth, and that's her cause of sor-

row.
Sil. Is she not passing fair ?

Jul. She hath been fairer, madam, than she is :
When she did think my master lov'd her well,
She, in my judgement, was as fair as you;
But since she did neglect her looking-glass,

And threw her sun-expelling mask away,
The air hath starv'd the roses in her cheeks,
And pinch'd the lily-tincture of her face,
That now she is become as black as I.

Sil. How tall was she?

Jul. About my stature : for, at Pentecost,
When all our pageants of delight were play'd,
Our youth got me to play the woman's part,
And I was trimm'd in madam Julia's gown;
Which serv'd me as fit, by all men's judgement,
As if the garment had been made for me :
Therefore, I know she is about my height.
And, at that time, I inade her weep a-good,
For I did play a lamentable part :
Madam, 'twas Ariadne, passioning
For Theseus' perjury, and unjust flight;
Which I so lively acted with my tears,
That my poor mistress, moved therewithal,
Wept bitterly; and, would I might be dead,
If I in thought felt not her very sorrow !

Sil. She is beholden to thee, gentle youth!-
Alas, poor lady! desolate and left!-
I weep myself, to think upon thy words.
Here, youth, there is my purse; I give thee this
For thy sweet mistress' sake, because thou lov’st her.
Farewell.

[Exit Silvia. Jul. And she shall thank you for't, if e'er you know

her.-
A virtuous gentlewoman, mild, and beautiful.
I hope my master's suit will be but cold,
Since she respects my mistress' love so much.
Alas, how love can trifle with itself!

Here is her picture : Let me see; I think,
If I had such a tire, this face of mine
Were full as lovely as is this of hers :
And yet the painter flatter'd her a little,
Unless I flatter with myself too much.
Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow:
If that be all the difference in his love,
I'll get me such a colour'd periwig.
Her eyes are grey as glass; and so are mine:
Ay, but her forehead's low, and mine's as high.
What should it be, that he respects in her,
But I can make respective in myself,
If this fond love were not a blinded god ?
Come, shadow, come, and take this shadow up,
For 'tis thy rival. O thou senseless form,
Thou shalt be worshipp'd, kiss'd, lov'd, and ador'd;
And, were there sense in his idolatry,
My substance should be statue in thy stead.
I'll use thee kindly for thy mistress' sake,
That us’d me so; or else, by Jove I vow,
I should have scratch'd out your unseeing eyes,
To make my master out of love with thee. (Exit,

ACT V.
SCENE I.The same. An Abbey.

Enter EGLAMOUR.
Egl. The sun begins to gild the western sky;
And now, it is about the very hour
l'hat Silvia, at Patrick's cell, should meet me.
She will not fail; for lovers break not hours,
Unless it be to come before their time;
So much they spur their expedition.

Enter Silvia.
See, where she comes : Lady, a happy evening!

Sil. Amen, amen! go on, good Eglamour !
Out at the postern by the abbey-wall;
I fear, I am attended by some spies.

Egl. Fear not: the forest is not three leagues off ; If we recover that, we are sure enough. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.— The same. An apartment in the Duke's

Palace.

Enter Thurio, Proteus, and JULIA. Thu. Sir Proteus, what says Silvia to my suit? Pro. O, sir, I find her milder than she was ;

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