Laun. Marry, Sir, I carry'd mistress Silvia the dog you bad me. Pro. And what fays fhe to my little jewel? Laun. Marry, fhe fays, your dog was a cur, and tells you, currifh thanks is good enough for fuch a prefent. Pro. But fhe receiv'd my dog? Loun. No indeed fhe did not: here have I brought him back again. Pro. What, didft thou offer her this from me? Laun. Ay, Sir; the other, Squirrel, was ftol'n from me by the hangman's boy in the market-place; and then I offer'd her mine own, who is a dog as big as ten of yours, and therefore the gift the greater. Pro. Go, get thee hence, and find my dog again, Or ne'er return again into my fight: Away, I fay; ftay'ft thou to vex me here? A flave, that ev'ry day turns me to fhame. [Exit Laun. Sebaftian, I have entertained thee, Partly that I have need of fuch a youth, That can with some discretion do my business; She lov'd me well, deliver'd it to me. Jul. It feems you lov'd not her, to leave her token: She's dead belike. Pro. Not fo: I think fhe lives. Pro. Why fhouldst thou pity her? Jul. Becaufe methinks + 'if fhe loves you as well As As you do love your lady Silvia; She dreams on him that has forgot her love; You doat on her that cares not for your love: 'Tis pity love fhould be fo contrary; And thinking on it makes me cry alas! Pro. Well, give her that ring, and give therewithal I claim the promise for her heav'nly picture. [Exit Pro. Jul. How many women would do fuch a meffage? To plead for that which I would not obtain ; To praise his faith, which I would have disprais'd. Lady, good day; I pray you, be my mean 04 Sil. Sil. From whom? Jul. From my mafter Sir Protheus, Madam. Sil. Urfula, bring my picture there. Go, give your master this; tell him from me, Deliver'd you a paper that I fhould not; Sil. I pray thee, let me look on that again. I will not look upon your mafter's lines, I know they're stufft with proteftations, And full of new-found oaths, which he will break Jul. Madam, he fends your ladyship this ring. His Julia gave it him at his departure: Tho' his falfe finger have prophan'd the ring, Sil. What fay'ft thou? ful. I thank you, Madam, that you tender her; Poor gentlewoman, my mafter wrongs her much. Sil. Doft thou know her? Jul. Almoft as well as I do know my. felf. To think upon her woes, I do protest That I have wept an hundred feveral times: Sil. Belike the thinks that Protheus hath forfook her. ful. I think fhe doth; and that's her caufe of forrow. Sil. Is fhe not paffing fair? Jul. She hath been fairer, Madam, than fhe is: When he did think my mafter lov'd her well, She She, in my judgment, was as fair as you. Jul. About my stature: for at Pentecoft, Sil. She is beholden to thee, gentle youth. I weep my felf to think upon thy words. For thy fweet mistress' fake, because thou lov'ft her. [Exit Silvia. ful. And she shall thank you for't, if e'er you know her. A virtuous gentlewoman, mild and beautiful. I hope my mafter's fuit will be but cold, 5 Since the refpects 'his miftrefs' love fo much. Here is her picture; let me fee; I think, 5 my Her Her Hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow. Her eyes are grey as glafs, and fo are mine; If this fond love were not a blinded god? up; Thou shalt be worship'd, kifs'd, lov'd and ador'd; My fubftance should be 'fainted in thy ftead. [Exit. THE Sun begins to gild the western sky, And now it is about the very hour Silvia, at Friar Patrick's cell, fhould meet me. So much they fpur their expedition. See where fhe comes. Lady, a happy evening! 6 ftatue Enter |