Out at the postern by the abbey-wall; Egl. Fear not the forest is not three leagues off; If we recover that we are sure enough. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The same. A Room in the Duke's SIR Palace. Enter THURIO, PROTEUS, and JULIA. Thurio. IR Proteus, what says Silvia to my suit? Pro. [Aside. Thu. What says she to my face? Pro. Thu. What says she to my valour? [Aside. Jul. She needs not, when she knows it cowardice. [Aside. Thu. What says she to my birth? Pro. Oh, ay; and pities them. Thu. Wherefore? Jul. That such an ass should owe them. Pro. [Aside. That they are out by lease. Jul. Here comes the Duke. Enter Duke. Duke. How now, Sir Proteus! how now, Thurio! Which of you saw Sir Eglamour of late? Thu. Not I. Pro. Nor I. Duke. Saw you my daughter? Pro. Neither. Duke. Why, then she's fled unto that peasant Valentine; And Eglamour is in her company. 'Tis true; for Friar Laurence met them both, At Patrick's cell this even; and there she was not. That leads towards Mantua, whither they are fled. Upon the rising of the mountain-foot Dispatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me. [Exit. That flies her fortune when it follows her. [Exit. Thu. Why, this it is to be a peevish girl, Pro. And I will follow, more for Silvia's love, Than hate of Eglamour that goes with her. [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 Out-laws. Out-laws. COME, come; be patient, we must bring you to our captain. 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. O Valentine, this I endure for thee! [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Another part of the Forest. Enter VALENTINE. Valentine. OW use doth breed a habit in a man! HOW 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, Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain! What halloing, and what stir, is this to-day? These are my 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? [Steps aside. Enter PROTEUS, SILVIA, and JULIA. Pro. Madam, this service I have done for you -Though you respect not aught your servant dothTo hazard life, and rescue you from him That would have forced your honour and your love. [Aside. Sil. O miserable! unhappy that I am! Pro. Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came; But, by my coming, I have made you happy. Sil. By thy approach thou mak'st me most unhappy. Jul. And me, when he approacheth to your pre sence. Sil. Had I been seized by a hungry lion, [Aside. 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'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 Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou'dst two, Pro. In love, 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. O Heaven! Pro. I'll force thee yield to my desire. Enter VALENTINE. Val. 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!! I have one friend alive; thou would'st disprove me. I am sorry I must never trust thee more, But count the world a stranger for thy sake. The private wound is deep'st. O time most curst! I tender it 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. |