ra present to mistress Silvia from my master; and I

came no sooner into the dining-chamber, but he steps ' me to her trencher, and steals her capon's leg. O, < '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 I were, a dog at all things. If I had no more wit " than he, to take a fault upon me that he did, I think < verily, he had been hang’d for't; sure as I live, he

had suffer'd for't ; you shall judge. He thrusts me

himself into the company of three or four gentleman' like 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 acquainted with the smell before, knew it was « Crab, and goes me to the fellow that whips the dogs;

Friend, quoth I, you mean to whip the dog? Ay, • marry, do I, quoth he. You do him the more < wrong, quoth l; 'twas I did the thing you wot of. • He makes no more ado, but whips me out of the « chamber. How many masters would do this for < their servant? nay, I'll be sworn, I have fat in the • stocks for the puddings he hath stoll'n, otherwise he • had been executed; I have stood on the pillory for < the geese he hath kill'd, otherwise he had suffer'd « for't. Thou think'st not of this now. Nay, I re« member the trick you serv'd mé, 2 when I took my < leave of Madam Julia ; 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 sfarthingale? didst thou ever see me do such a trick?

2 when I took my leave of Madam SILVIA;] We should cer. tainly read JULIA, meaning when his matter and he left Verena.

SCENE

S CE NE VII.

Enter Protheus and Julia.
Pro, Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well;
And will imploy thee in some service presently.

Jul. In what you please: I'll do, Sir, what I can.
Pro. I hope, thou wiltH ow now, you whoreson

peasant,
Where have you been these two days loitering?

Laun. Marry, Sir, I carry'd mistress Silvia the dog, you bad me.

Pro. And what says she to my little jewel ?

Laun. Marry, she says, your dog was a cur; and tells you, currish thanks is good enough for such a prefent.

Pro. But she receiv'd my dog?

Laun. No, indeed, she did not: here have I brought him back again.

Pro. What, didst thou offer her this from me?

Laun. Ay, Sir; the other squirrel was stoll'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 sight: · Away, I say: stay'st thou to vex me here? A Nave, that, still an end, turns me to shame.

[Exit Launce, Sebastian, I have entertained thee, Partly, that I have need of such a youth; That can with some discretion do my business: (For 'tis no trusting to yon foolish lowt:) But, chiefly, for thy face and thy behaviour; Which, if my augury deceive me not, Witness good bringing up, fortune and truth: Therefore know thou, for this I entertain thee.

GO

Go presently, and take this ring with thee;
Deliver it to Madam Silvia.
She lov'd me well, deliver'd it to me.

Jul. It seems, you lov'd not her, to leave her token : She's dead, belike.

Pro. Not so: I think, she lives.

Jul. Alas!
· Pro. Why do'st thou cry, alas?

Jul. I cannot chufe but pity her..!
Pro. Wherefore shouldst thou pity her?

Jul. Because, methinks, that she lov'd you as well
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 should be so contrary;
And, thinking on it, makes me cry, alas!

Pro. Well, give her that ring, and give therewithal This letter; that's her chamber: tell my lady, I claim the promise for her heav'nly picture. Your message done, hie home unto my chamber, Where thou shalt find me sad and solitary.

[Exit Prothéus.

Jul. How many women would do such a message: Alas, poor Protheus, 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 defpisech 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. And now I am, unhappy messenger, To plead for that, which I would not obtain ; To carry that, which I would have refus'd;

To

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 will I woo for him, but yet so coldly,
As, heav'n it knows, I would not have him speed.

Enter Silvia.
Lady, 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 the?

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

Sil. From whom?
Jul. From my master, Sir Protheus, Madam.
Sil. Oh! he sends you for a picture?
Jul. Ay, Madam.

Sil. Ursula, bring my picture there.
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, may’t please you to peruse this letter.
Pardon me, Madam, I have unadvis'd
Deliver'd 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're stufft 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 fends it me; For, I have heard him say a thousand times, His Yulia gave it him at his departure: Tho' his false finger have prophan'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 Protheus hath forlook

her.
Jul. I think, she doth; and that's her cause of sorrow.
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 judgment, was as fair as you.
3 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 pitch'd the lilly-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,
3 But fince soe did negle& her looking-glass,

And threw her sun-expelling mask away;
The air bath flaru'd ihe roles in her checks,
And PINCH'D the lilly.tincture of her face,

That now she is become as black as 1.) To farve the Roses is certainly a very proper expression : but what is pinching a tineture? However farved, in the third line, made the blundering Editors write pincb'd in the fourth ; cho' they might have seen that it was a tanning scorching, not a freezing air that was spoken of. For how could this latter quality in the air so affet the whiteness of the skin as to turn it black. We should read,

And pitch'd the lilly-tin&ture of her face. i.e. turned the white tincture black, as the following line has it,

That now be is become as black as I. and we say, in common speech, as black as pitch. By the roses being flaru'd, is only meant their being withered, and losing their colour,

When