Already have I been false to Valentine And now I must be as unjust to Thurio. Under the colour of commending him, I have access my own love to prefer: But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy, To be corrupted with my worthless gifts. When I protest true loyalty to her, She twits me with my falsehood to my friend; When to her beauty I commend my vows, She bids me think how I have been forsworn In breaking faith with Julia whom I loved: And notwithstanding all her sudden quips, The least whereof would quell a lover's hope, Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love, The more it grows and fawneth on her still. But here comes Thurio: now must we to her window, And give some evening music to her ear.
Enter Thurio and Musicians
Enter, at a distance, Host, and Julia in boy's clothes
Come, we'll have you merry: I'll bring you where you shall hear music and see the gentleman that you asked for.
Ay: but, peace! let's hear 'em.
Who is Silvia? what is she, That all our swains commend her? Holy, fair and wise is she; The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admired be. Is she kind as she is fair? For beauty lives with kindness. Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness, And, being help'd, inhabits there. Then to Silvia let us sing, That Silvia is excelling; She excels each mortal thing Upon the dull earth dwelling: To her let us garlands bring.
I would always have one play but one thing. But, host, doth this Sir Proteus that we talk on Often resort unto this gentlewoman?
Gone to seek his dog; which tomorrow, by his master's command, he must carry for a present to his lady.
Enter Silvia above
One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth, You would quickly learn to know him by his voice.
You have your wish; my will is even this: That presently you hie you home to bed. Thou subtle, perjured, false, disloyal man! Think'st thou I am so shallow, so conceitless, To be seduced by thy flattery, That hast deceived so many with thy vows? Return, return, and make thy love amends. For me, by this pale queen of night I swear, I am so far from granting thy request That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit, And by and by intend to chide myself Even for this time I spend in talking to thee.
Say that she be; yet Valentine thy friend Survives; to whom, thyself art witness, I am betroth'd: and art thou not ashamed To wrong him with thy importunacy?
Madam, if your heart be so obdurate, Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love, The picture that is hanging in your chamber; To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep: For since the substance of your perfect self Is else devoted, I am but a shadow; And to your shadow will I make true love.
I am very loath to be your idol, sir; But since your falsehood shall become you well To worship shadows and adore false shapes, Send to me in the morning and I'll send it: And so, good rest.
Exeunt Proteus and Silvia severally