Another Part of the Forest. |
| |
| Enter VALENTINE. |
| Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man! |
| This shadowy desart, unfrequented woods, |
| I better brook than flourishing peopled towns. |
| Here can I sit alone, unseen of any, |
| And to the nightingale's complaining notes |
| Tune my distresses and record my woes. |
| O thou that dost inhabit in my breast, |
| Leave not the mansion so long tenantless, |
| Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall |
| And leave no memory of what it was! |
| Repair me with thy presence, Silvia! |
| Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain! [Noise within. |
| 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 doth— |
| To hazard life and rescue you from him |
| That would have forc'd your honour and your love. |
| Vouchsafe me, for my meed, but one fair look; |
| A smaller boon than this I cannot beg, |
| And less than this, I am sure, you cannot give. |
| Val. [Aside.] How like a dream is this I see and hear! |
| Love, lend me patience to forbear awhile. |
| 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. [Aside.] And me, when he approacheth to your presence. |
| Sil. Had I been seized by a hungry lion, |
| I would have been a breakfast to the beast, |
| Rather than have false Proteus rescue me. |
| O! heaven be judge how I love Valentine, |
| Whose life's as tender to me as my soul, |
| And full as much—for more there cannot be— |
| I do detest false perjur'd Proteus. |
| Therefore be gone, solicit me no more. |
| Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to death, |
| Would I not undergo for one calm look! |
| O, 'tis the curse in love, and still approv'd, |
| When women cannot love where they're belov'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 |
| Descended into perjury to love me. |
| Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou'dst two, |
| And that's far worse than none: better have none |
| Than plural faith which is too much by one. |
| Thou counterfeit to thy true friend! |
| Pro. In love |
| Who respects friend? |
| Sil. 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 ye. |
| Sil. O heaven! |
| Pro. I'll force thee yield to my desire. |
| Val. [Coming forward.] 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—treach'rous man! |
| Thou hast beguil'd my hopes: naught but mine eye |
| Could have persuaded me. Now I dare not say |
| I have one friend alive: thou wouldst disprove me. |
| Who should be trusted now, when one's right hand |
| Is perjur'd to the bosom? Proteus, |
| 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! |
| 'Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst! |
| Pro. My shame and guilt confound me. |
| Forgive me, Valentine. If hearty sorrow |
| Be a sufficient ransom for offence, |
| I tender't 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. |
| Who by repentance is not satisfied |
| Is nor of heaven, nor earth; for these are pleas'd. |
| By penitence the Eternal's wrath's appeas'd: |
| And, that my love may appear plain and free, |
| All that was mine in Silvia I give thee. |
| Jul. O me unhappy! [Swoons. |
| Pro. Look to the boy. |
| Val. Why, boy! why, wag! how now! what's the matter? |
| Look up; speak. |
| Jul. O good sir, my master charg'd me |
| To deliver a ring to Madam Silvia, |
| Which out of my neglect was never done. |
| Pro. Where is that ring, boy? |
| Jul. Here 'tis: this is it. [Gives a ring. |
| Pro. How! let me see. |
| Why this is the ring I gave to Julia. |
| Jul. O, cry you mercy, sir; I have mistook: |
| This is the ring you sent to Silvia. [Shows another ring. |
| Pro. But how cam'st thou by this ring? |
| At my depart I gave this unto Julia. |
| Jul. And Julia herself did give it me; |
| And Julia herself hath brought it hither. |
| Pro. How! Julia! |
| Jul. Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths, |
| And entertain'd them deeply in her heart: |
| How oft hast thou with perjury cleft the root! |
| O Proteus! let this habit make thee blush. |
| Be thou asham'd that I have took upon me |
| Such an immodest raiment; if shame live |
| In a disguise of love. |
| It is the lesser blot, modesty finds, |
| Women to change their shapes than men their minds. |
| Pro. Than men their minds! 'tis true. O heaven! were man |
| But constant, he were perfect: that one error |
| Fills him with faults; makes him run through all the sins: |
| Inconstancy falls off ere it begins. |
| What is in Silvia's face, but I may spy |
| More fresh in Julia's with a constant eye? |
| Val. Come, come, a hand from either. |
| Let me be blest to make this happy close: |
| 'Twere pity two such friends should be long foes. |
| Pro. Bear witness, heaven, I have my wish, for ever. |
| Jul. And I mine. |
| |
| Enter Outlaws with DUKE and THURIO. |
| Out. A prize! a prize! a prize! |
| Val. Forbear, forbear, I say; it is my lord the duke. |
| Your Grace is welcome to a man disgrac'd, |
| Banished Valentine. |
| Duke. Sir Valentine! |
| Thu. Yonder is Silvia; and Silvia's mine. |
| Val. Thurio, give back, or else embrace thy death; |
| Come not within the measure of my wrath; |
| Do not name Silvia thine; if once again, |
| Verona shall not hold thee. Here she stands; |
| Take but possession of her with a touch; |
| I dare thee but to breathe upon my love. |
| Thu. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I. |
| I hold him but a fool that will endanger |
| His body for a girl that loves him not: |
| I claim her not, and therefore she is thine. |
| Duke. The more degenerate and base art thou, |
| To make such means for her as thou hast done, |
| And leave her on such slight conditions. |
| Now, by the honour of my ancestry, |
| I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine, |
| And think thee worthy of an empress' love. |
| Know then, I here forget all former griefs, |
| Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again, |
| Plead a new state in thy unrivall'd merit, |
| To which I thus subscribe: Sir Valentine, |
| Thou art a gentleman and well deriv'd; |
| Take thou thy Silvia, for thou hast deserv'd her. |
| Val. I thank your Grace; the gift hath made me happy. |
| I now beseech you, for your daughter's sake, |
| To grant one boon that I shall ask of you. |
| Duke. I grant it, for thine own, whate'er it be. |
| Val. These banish'd men, that I have kept withal |
| Are men endu'd with worthy qualities: |
| Forgive them what they have committed here, |
| And let them be recall'd from their exile. |
| They are reformed, civil, full of good, |
| And fit for great employment, worthy lord. |
| Duke. Thou hast prevail'd; I pardon them, and thee: |
| Dispose of them as thou know'st their deserts. |
| Come, let us go: we will include all jars |
| With triumphs, mirth, and rare solemnity. |
| Val. And as we walk along, I dare be bold |
| With our discourse to make your Grace to smile. |
| What think you of this page, my lord? |
| Duke. I think the boy hath grace in him: he blushes. |
| Val. I warrant you, my lord, more grace than boy. |
| Duke. What mean you by that saying? |
| Val. Please you, I'll tell you as we pass along, |
| That you will wonder what hath fortuned. |
| Come, Proteus; 'tis your penance, but to hear |
| The story of your loves discovered: |
| That done, our day of marriage shall be yours; |
| One feast, one house, one mutual happiness. [Exeunt. |
Design © 1995-2007 ZeFLIP.com All rights reserved.