Which heaven and fortune still rewards with

plagues

I do desire thee, even from a heart
As full of sorrows as the sea of sands,

To bear me company, and go with me:
If not, to hide what I have said to thee,
That I may venture to depart alone.
Egl. Madam, I pity much your grievances;
Which since I know they virtuously are placed,
I give consent to go along with you;
Recking as little what betideth me

Sil.

As much I wish all good befortune you.
When will you go?

This evening coming.

Egl. Where shall I meet you?

Sil.

At Friar Patrick's cell,

Where I intend holy confession.

Egl. I will not fail your ladyship. Good mor

row, gentle lady.

Sil. Good morrow, kind Sir Eglamour.

40

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE IV

The same.

Enter Launce, with his Dog.

Launce. When a man's servant shall play the cur with him, look you, it goes hard: one that I brought up of a puppy; one that I saved from drowning, when three or four of

his blind brothers and sisters went to it! I
have taught him, even as one would say pre-
cisely, 'thus I would teach a dog.' I was sent
to deliver him as a present to Mistress Sil-
via from my master; and I came no sooner
into the dining-chamber, but he steps me to 10
her trencher, and steals her capon's leg: 0,
'tis a foul thing when a cur cannot keep
himself in all companies! I would have, as
one should say, one that takes upon him to
be a dog indeed, to be, as it were, a dog at
all things. If I had not had more wit than
he, to take a fault upon me that he did, I
think verily he had been hanged for 't sure;
as I live, he had suffer'd for 't: you shall
judge. He thrusts me himself into the com- 20
pany of three or four gentlemanlike dogs,
under the duke's table: he had not been there
-bless the mark-a pissing while, but all the
chamber smelt him. 'Out with the dog!'
says one: 'What cur is that?' says another:
'Whip him out,' says the third: ‘Hang him
up,' says the duke. I, having been ac-
quainted with the smell before, knew it was
Crab, and goes me to the fellow that whips
the dog: 'Friend,' quoth I, 'do you mean 30
to whip the dog?' 'Aye, marry, do I,' quoth
he. 'You do him the more wrong,' quoth

11. That the daughter of a duke should eat from a trencher, need not seem strange, since in the privy-purse expenses of Henry VIII we find the following entry: "Item, payed to the sergeant of the pantry for certain trenchers for the king, 23s, 6d.”—H. N. H.

I; "twas I did the thing you wot of.' He
makes me no more ado, but whips me out
of the chamber. How many masters would
do this for his servant? Nay, I'll be sworn,
I have sat in the stocks for puddings he
hath stolen, otherwise he had been executed;
I have stood on the pillory for geese he hath
killed, otherwise he had suffered for 't. 40
Thou thinkest not of this now. Nay, I re-
member the trick you served me when I took
my leave of Madam Silvia: did not I bid
thee still mark me, and do as I do? when
didst thou see me heave up my leg, and
make water against a gentlewoman's far-
thingale? didst thou ever see me do such a
trick?

Enter Proteus and Julia.

51

Pro. Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well,
And will employ thee in some service presently.
Jul. In what you please: I 'll do what I can.
Pro. I hope thou wilt. [To Launce] How now,
you whoreson peasant!

Where have you been these two days loitering? Launce. Marry, sir, I carried Mistress Silvia the dog you bade me.

Pro. And what says she to my little jewel? Launce. Marry, she says your dog was a cur, and tells you currish thanks is good enough for such a present.

Pro. But she received my dog?

60

Launce. No, indeed, did she not: here have I

brought him back again.

Pro. What, didst thou offer her this from me?
Launce. Aye, sir; the other squirrel was stolen

from me by the hangman boys in the market-place: and then I offered 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 sight. Away, I say! stay'st thou to vex me here? [Exit Launce. A slave, that still an end turns me to shame! Sebastian, I have entertained thee,

70

Partly that I have need of such a youth,
That can with some discretion do my business,
For 'tis no trusting to yond foolish lout;
But chiefly for thy face and thy behavior,
Which, if my augury deceive me not,

Witness good bringing up, fortune, and truth:
Therefore know thou, for this I entertain thee.
Go presently, and take this ring with thee,
Deliver it to Madam Silvia:

She loved me well deliver'd it to me.

81

64. "the other squirrel,” a playful name for Proteus' "little jewel." Possibly there is an allusion to the feminine fancy for tame squirrels. Mr. Marshall refers to Lyly's Endymion (ii. 2), where Scintilla is introduced leading one in a chain. The word had probably equivocal associations, and Lyly coins the word squirrilitie as a variant for obscenity (Pap with the Hatchet).-C. H. H.

65. “Hangman boys"; the Folios read "hangmans boys"; the reading in the text was given by Singer from a MS. note in a copy of the second Folio in his possession.-I. G.

Jul. It seems you loved not her, to leave her token. She is dead, belike?

Pro.

Not so; I think she lives.

Jul. Alas!

Pro. Why dost thou cry, 'alas'?

Jul.

Pro.

But pity her.

I cannot choose

Wherefore shouldst thou pity her? Jul. Because methinks that she loved you as well As you do love your lady Silvia:

She dreams on him that has forgot her love; You dote on her that cares not for your love. "Tis pity love should be so contrary;

91

And thinking on it makes me cry, ‘alas!'
Pro. Well, give her that ring, and therewithal
This letter. That's her chamber. Tell my
lady

I claim the promise for her heavenly picture.
Your message done, hie home unto my chamber,
Where thou shalt find me, sad and solitary. 100

[Exit.
Jul. How many women would do such a message?
Alas, poor Proteus! thou hast entertain'd
A fox to be the shepherd of thy lambs.
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 my good will;

84. The first Folio misprints, "not leave her token."-I. G.