ACT III SCENE II The same. The DUKE's palace. [Enter DUKE and THURIO] DUKE Sir Thurio, fear not but that she will love you, Now Valentine is banish'd from her sight. THURIO Since his exile she hath despised me most, Forsworn my company and rail'd at me, That I am desperate of obtaining her. DUKE This weak impress of love is as a figure Trenched in ice, which with an hour's heat Dissolves to water and doth lose his form. A little time will melt her frozen thoughts And worthless Valentine shall be forgot. [Enter PROTEUS] How now, Sir Proteus! Is your countryman According to our proclamation gone? PROTEUS Gone, my good lord. DUKE My daughter takes his going grievously. PROTEUS A little time, my lord, will kill that grief. DUKE So I believe; but Thurio thinks not so. Proteus, the good conceit I hold of thee-- For thou hast shown some sign of good desert-- Makes me the better to confer with thee. PROTEUS Longer than I prove loyal to your grace Let me not live to look upon your grace. DUKE Thou know'st how willingly I would effect The match between Sir Thurio and my daughter. PROTEUS I do, my lord. DUKE And also, I think, thou art not ignorant How she opposes her against my will PROTEUS She did, my lord, when Valentine was here. DUKE Ay, and perversely she persevers so. What might we do to make the girl forget The love of Valentine and love Sir Thurio? PROTEUS The best way is to slander Valentine With falsehood, cowardice and poor descent, Three things that women highly hold in hate. DUKE Ay, but she'll think that it is spoke in hate. PROTEUS Ay, if his enemy deliver it: Therefore it must with circumstance be spoken By one whom she esteemeth as his friend. DUKE Then you must undertake to slander him. PROTEUS And that, my lord, I shall be loath to do: 'Tis an ill office for a gentleman, Especially against his very friend. DUKE Where your good word cannot advantage him, Your slander never can endamage him; Therefore the office is indifferent, Being entreated to it by your friend. PROTEUS You have prevail'd, my lord; if I can do it By ought that I can speak in his dispraise, She shall not long continue love to him. But say this weed her love from Valentine, It follows not that she will love Sir Thurio. THURIO Therefore, as you unwind her love from him, Lest it should ravel and be good to none, You must provide to bottom it on me; Which must be done by praising me as much As you in worth dispraise Sir Valentine. DUKE And, Proteus, we dare trust you in this kind, Because we know, on Valentine's report, You are already Love's firm votary And cannot soon revolt and change your mind. Upon this warrant shall you have access Where you with Silvia may confer at large; For she is lumpish, heavy, melancholy, And, for your friend's sake, will be glad of you; Where you may temper her by your persuasion To hate young Valentine and love my friend. PROTEUS As much as I can do, I will effect: But you, Sir Thurio, are not sharp enough; You must lay lime to tangle her desires By wailful sonnets, whose composed rhymes Should be full-fraught with serviceable vows. DUKE Ay, Much is the force of heaven-bred poesy. PROTEUS Say that upon the altar of her beauty You sacrifice your tears, your sighs, your heart: Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears Moist it again, and frame some feeling line That may discover such integrity: For Orpheus' lute was strung with poets' sinews, Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones, Make tigers tame and huge leviathans Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands. After your dire-lamenting elegies, Visit by night your lady's chamber-window With some sweet concert; to their instruments Tune a deploring dump: the night's dead silence Will well become such sweet-complaining grievance. This, or else nothing, will inherit her. DUKE This discipline shows thou hast been in love. THURIO And thy advice this night I'll put in practise. Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver, Let us into the city presently To sort some gentlemen well skill'd in music. I have a sonnet that will serve the turn To give the onset to thy good advice. DUKE About it, gentlemen! PROTEUS We'll wait upon your grace till after supper, And afterward determine our proceedings. DUKE Even now about it! I will pardon you. [Exeunt] ACT IV SCENE I The frontiers of Mantua. A forest. [Enter certain Outlaws] First Outlaw Fellows, stand fast; I see a passenger. Second Outlaw If there be ten, shrink not, but down with 'em. [Enter VALENTINE and SPEED] Third Outlaw Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about ye: If not: we'll make you sit and rifle you. SPEED Sir, we are undone; these are the villains That all the travellers do fear so much. VALENTINE My friends,-- First Outlaw That's not so, sir: we are your enemies. Second Outlaw Peace! we'll hear him. Third Outlaw Ay, by my beard, will we, for he's a proper man. VALENTINE Then know that I have little wealth to lose: A man I am cross'd with adversity; My riches are these poor habiliments, Of which if you should here disfurnish me, You take the sum and substance that I have. Second Outlaw Whither travel you? VALENTINE To Verona. First Outlaw Whence came you? VALENTINE From Milan. Third Outlaw Have you long sojourned there? VALENTINE Some sixteen months, and longer might have stay'd, If crooked fortune had not thwarted me. First Outlaw What, were you banish'd thence? VALENTINE I was. Second Outlaw For what offence? VALENTINE For that which now torments me to rehearse: I kill'd a man, whose death I much repent; But yet I slew him manfully in fight, Without false vantage or base treachery. First Outlaw Why, ne'er repent it, if it were done so. But were you banish'd for so small a fault? VALENTINE I was, and held me glad of such a doom. Second Outlaw Have you the tongues? VALENTINE My youthful travel therein made me happy, Or else I often had been miserable. Third Outlaw By the bare scalp of Robin Hood's fat friar, This fellow were a king for our wild faction! First Outlaw We'll have him. Sirs, a word. SPEED Master, be one of them; it's an honourable kind of thievery. VALENTINE Peace, villain! Second Outlaw Tell us this: have you any thing to take to? VALENTINE Nothing but my fortune. Third Outlaw Know, then, that some of us are gentlemen, Such as the fury of ungovern'd youth Thrust from the company of awful men: Myself was from Verona banished For practising to steal away a lady, An heir, and near allied unto the duke. Second Outlaw And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Who, in my mood, I stabb'd unto the heart. First Outlaw And I for such like petty crimes as these, But to the purpose--for we cite our faults, That they may hold excus'd our lawless lives; And partly, seeing you are beautified With goodly shape and by your own report A linguist and a man of such perfection As we do in our quality much want-- Second Outlaw Indeed, because you are a banish'd man, Therefore, above the rest, we parley to you: Are you content to be our general? To make a virtue of necessity And live, as we do, in this wilderness? Third Outlaw What say'st thou? wilt thou be of our consort? Say ay, and be the captain of us all: We'll do thee homage and be ruled by thee, Love thee as our commander and our king. First Outlaw But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest. Second Outlaw Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offer'd. VALENTINE I take your offer and will live with you, Provided that you do no outrages On silly women or poor passengers. Third Outlaw No, we detest such vile base practises. Come, go with us, we'll bring thee to our crews, And show thee all the treasure we have got, Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. [Exeunt] THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA ACT IV SCENE II Milan. Outside the DUKE's palace, under SILVIA's chamber. [Enter PROTEUS] PROTEUS 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] THURIO How now, Sir Proteus, are you crept before us? PROTEUS Ay, gentle Thurio: for you know that love Will creep in service where it cannot go. THURIO Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here. PROTEUS Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence. THURIO Who? Silvia? PROTEUS Ay, Silvia; for your sake. THURIO I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen, Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile. [Enter, at a distance, Host, and JULIA in boy's clothes] Host Now, my young guest, methinks you're allycholly: I pray you, why is it? JULIA Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry. Host Come, we'll have you merry: I'll bring you where you shall hear music and see the gentleman that you asked for. JULIA But shall I hear him speak? Host Ay, that you shall. JULIA That will be music. [Music plays] Host Hark, hark! JULIA Is he among these? Host Ay: but, peace! let's hear 'em. SONG. 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. Host How now! are you sadder than you were before? How do you, man? the music likes you not. JULIA You mistake; the musician likes me not. Host Why, my pretty youth? JULIA He plays false, father. Host How? out of tune on the strings? JULIA Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my very heart-strings. Host You have a quick ear. JULIA Ay, I would I were deaf; it makes me have a slow heart. Host I perceive you delight not in music. JULIA Not a whit, when it jars so. Host Hark, what fine change is in the music! JULIA Ay, that change is the spite. Host You would have them always play but one thing? JULIA I would always have one play but one thing. But, host, doth this Sir Proteus that we talk on Often resort unto this gentlewoman? Host I tell you what Launce, his man, told me: he loved her out of all nick. JULIA Where is Launce? Host Gone to seek his dog; which tomorrow, by his master's command, he must carry for a present to his lady. JULIA Peace! stand aside: the company parts. PROTEUS Sir Thurio, fear not you: I will so plead That you shall say my cunning drift excels. THURIO Where meet we? PROTEUS At Saint Gregory's well. THURIO Farewell. [Exeunt THURIO and Musicians] [Enter SILVIA above] PROTEUS Madam, good even to your ladyship. SILVIA I thank you for your music, gentlemen. Who is that that spake? PROTEUS One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth, You would quickly learn to know him by his voice. SILVIA Sir Proteus, as I take it. PROTEUS Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. SILVIA What's your will? PROTEUS That I may compass yours. SILVIA 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. PROTEUS I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady; But she is dead. JULIA [Aside] 'Twere false, if I should speak it; For I am sure she is not buried. SILVIA 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? PROTEUS I likewise hear that Valentine is dead. SILVIA And so suppose am I; for in his grave Assure thyself my love is buried. PROTEUS Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth. SILVIA Go to thy lady's grave and call hers thence, Or, at the least, in hers sepulchre thine. JULIA [Aside] He heard not that. PROTEUS 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. JULIA [Aside] If 'twere a substance, you would, sure, deceive it, And make it but a shadow, as I am. SILVIA 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. PROTEUS As wretches have o'ernight That wait for execution in the morn. [Exeunt PROTEUS and SILVIA severally] JULIA Host, will you go? Host By my halidom, I was fast asleep. JULIA Pray you, where lies Sir Proteus? Host Marry, at my house. Trust me, I think 'tis almost day. JULIA Not so; but it hath been the longest night That e'er I watch'd and the most heaviest. [Exeunt] ACT IV SCENE III The same. [Enter EGLAMOUR] EGLAMOUR This is the hour that Madam Silvia Entreated me to call and know her mind: There's some great matter she'ld employ me in. Madam, madam! [Enter SILVIA above] SILVIA Who calls? EGLAMOUR Your servant and your friend; One that attends your ladyship's command. SILVIA Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good morrow. EGLAMOUR As many, worthy lady, to yourself: According to your ladyship's impose, I am thus early come to know what service It is your pleasure to command me in. SILVIA O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman-- Think not I flatter, for I swear I do not-- Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplish'd: Thou art not ignorant what dear good will I bear unto the banish'd Valentine, Nor how my father would enforce me marry Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhors. Thyself hast loved; and I have heard thee say No grief did ever come so near thy heart As when thy lady and thy true love died, Upon whose grave thou vow'dst pure chastity. Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine, To Mantua, where I hear he makes abode; And, for the ways are dangerous to pass, I do desire thy worthy company, Upon whose faith and honour I repose. Urge not my father's anger, Eglamour, But think upon my grief, a lady's grief, And on the justice of my flying hence, To keep me from a most unholy match, 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. EGLAMOUR 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 As much I wish all good befortune you. When will you go? SILVIA This evening coming. EGLAMOUR Where shall I meet you? SILVIA At Friar Patrick's cell, Where I intend holy confession. EGLAMOUR I will not fail your ladyship. Good morrow, gentle lady. SILVIA Good morrow, kind Sir Eglamour. [Exeunt severally] THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA ACT IV SCENE IV The same. [Enter LAUNCE, with his 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 precisely, 'thus I would teach a dog.' I was sent to deliver him as a 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 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 suffered for't; you shall judge. He thrusts me himself into the company 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 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 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. Thou thinkest not of this now. Nay, I remember 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 farthingale? didst thou ever see me do such a trick? [Enter PROTEUS and JULIA] PROTEUS Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well And will employ thee in some service presently. JULIA In what you please: I'll do what I can. PROTEUS 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. PROTEUS 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. PROTEUS But she received my dog? LAUNCE No, indeed, did she not: here have I brought him back again. PROTEUS What, didst thou offer her this from me? LAUNCE Ay, 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. PROTEUS 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, 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. JULIA It seems you loved not her, to leave her token. She is dead, belike? PROTEUS Not so; I think she lives. JULIA Alas! PROTEUS Why dost thou cry 'alas'? JULIA I cannot choose But pity her. PROTEUS Wherefore shouldst thou pity her? JULIA Because methinks that she loved you as well As you do love your lady Silvia: She dreams of him that has forgot her love; You dote on her that cares not for your love. 'Tis pity love should be so contrary; And thinking of it makes me cry 'alas!' PROTEUS 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. [Exit] JULIA 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; And now am I, unhappy messenger, To plead for that which I would not obtain, To carry that which I would have refused, To praise his faith which I would have dispraised. 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, heaven it knows, I would not have him speed. [Enter SILVIA, attended] Gentlewoman, good day! I pray you, be my mean To bring me where to speak with Madam Silvia. SILVIA What would you with her, if that I be she? JULIA If you be she, I do entreat your patience To hear me speak the message I am sent on. SILVIA From whom? JULIA From my master, Sir Proteus, madam. SILVIA O, he sends you for a picture. JULIA Ay, madam. SILVIA Ursula, bring my picture here. Go give your master this: tell him from me, One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget, Would better fit his chamber than this shadow. JULIA Madam, please you peruse this letter.-- Pardon me, madam; I have unadvised Deliver'd you a paper that I should not: This is the letter to your ladyship. SILVIA I pray thee, let me look on that again. JULIA It may not be; good madam, pardon me. SILVIA There, hold! I will not look upon your master's lines: I know they are stuff'd with protestations And full of new-found oaths; which he will break As easily as I do tear his paper. JULIA Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring. SILVIA The more shame for him that he sends it me; For I have heard him say a thousand times His Julia gave it him at his departure. Though his false finger have profaned the ring, Mine shall not do his Julia so much wrong. JULIA She thanks you. SILVIA What say'st thou? JULIA I thank you, madam, that you tender her. Poor gentlewoman! my master wrongs her much. SILVIA Dost thou know her? JULIA Almost as well as I do know myself: To think upon her woes I do protest That I have wept a hundred several times. SILVIA Belike she thinks that Proteus hath forsook her. JULIA I think she doth; and that's her cause of sorrow. SILVIA Is she not passing fair? JULIA She hath been fairer, madam, than she is: When she did think my master loved her well, She, in my judgment, was as fair as you: But since she did neglect her looking-glass And threw her sun-expelling mask away, The air hath starved the roses in her cheeks And pinch'd the lily-tincture of her face, That now she is become as black as I. SILVIA How tall was she? JULIA About my stature; for at Pentecost, When all our pageants of delight were play'd, Our youth got me to play the woman's part, And I was trimm'd in Madam Julia's gown, Which served me as fit, by all men's judgments, As if the garment had been made for me: Therefore I know she is about my height. And at that time I made her weep agood, For I did play a lamentable part: Madam, 'twas Ariadne passioning For Theseus' perjury and unjust flight; Which I so lively acted with my tears That my poor mistress, moved therewithal, Wept bitterly; and would I might be dead If I in thought felt not her very sorrow! SILVIA She is beholding to thee, gentle youth. Alas, poor lady, desolate and left! I weep myself to think upon thy words. Here, youth, there is my purse; I give thee this For thy sweet mistress' sake, because thou lovest her. Farewell. [Exit SILVIA, with attendants] JULIA And she shall thank you for't, if e'er you know her. A virtuous gentlewoman, mild and beautiful I hope my master's suit will be but cold, Since she respects my mistress' love so much. Alas, how love can trifle with itself! Here is her picture: let me see; I think, If I had such a tire, this face of mine Were full as lovely as is this of hers: And yet the painter flatter'd her a little, Unless I flatter with myself too much. Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow: If that be all the difference in his love, I'll get me such a colour'd periwig. Her eyes are grey as glass, and so are mine: Ay, but her forehead's low, and mine's as high. What should it be that he respects in her But I can make respective in myself, If this fond Love were not a blinded god? Come, shadow, come and take this shadow up, For 'tis thy rival. O thou senseless form, Thou shalt be worshipp'd, kiss'd, loved and adored! And, were there sense in his idolatry, My substance should be statue in thy stead. I'll use thee kindly for thy mistress' sake, That used me so; or else, by Jove I vow, I should have scratch'd out your unseeing eyes To make my master out of love with thee! [Exit] THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA ACT V SCENE I Milan. An abbey. [Enter EGLAMOUR] EGLAMOUR The sun begins to gild the western sky; And now it is about the very hour That Silvia, at Friar Patrick's cell, should meet me. She will not fail, for lovers break not hours, Unless it be to come before their time; So much they spur their expedition. See where she comes. [Enter SILVIA] Lady, a happy evening! SILVIA Amen, amen! Go on, good Eglamour, Out at the postern by the abbey-wall: I fear I am attended by some spies. EGLAMOUR Fear not: the forest is not three leagues off; If we recover that, we are sure enough. [Exeunt] THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA ACT V SCENE II The same. The DUKE's palace. [Enter THURIO, PROTEUS, and JULIA] THURIO Sir Proteus, what says Silvia to my suit? PROTEUS O, sir, I find her milder than she was; And yet she takes exceptions at your person. THURIO What, that my leg is too long? PROTEUS No; that it is too little. THURIO I'll wear a boot, to make it somewhat rounder. JULIA [Aside] But love will not be spurr'd to what it loathes. THURIO What says she to my face? PROTEUS She says it is a fair one. THURIO Nay then, the wanton lies; my face is black. PROTEUS But pearls are fair; and the old saying is, Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes. JULIA [Aside] 'Tis true; such pearls as put out ladies' eyes; For I had rather wink than look on them. THURIO How likes she my discourse? PROTEUS Ill, when you talk of war. THURIO But well, when I discourse of love and peace? JULIA [Aside] But better, indeed, when you hold your peace. THURIO What says she to my valour? PROTEUS O, sir, she makes no doubt of that. JULIA [Aside] She needs not, when she knows it cowardice. THURIO What says she to my birth? PROTEUS That you are well derived. JULIA [Aside] True; from a gentleman to a fool. THURIO Considers she my possessions? PROTEUS O, ay; and pities them. THURIO Wherefore? JULIA [Aside] That such an ass should owe them. PROTEUS That they are out by lease. JULIA Here comes the duke. [Enter DUKE] DUKE How now, Sir Proteus! how now, Thurio! Which of you saw Sir Eglamour of late? THURIO Not I. PROTEUS Nor I. DUKE Saw you my daughter? PROTEUS Neither. DUKE Why then, She's fled unto that peasant Valentine; And Eglamour is in her company. 'Tis true; for Friar Laurence met them both, As he in penance wander'd through the forest; Him he knew well, and guess'd that it was she, But, being mask'd, he was not sure of it; Besides, she did intend confession At Patrick's cell this even; and there she was not; These likelihoods confirm her flight from hence. Therefore, I pray you, stand not to discourse, But mount you presently and meet with me Upon the rising of the mountain-foot That leads towards Mantua, whither they are fled: Dispatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me. [Exit] THURIO Why, this it is to be a peevish girl, That flies her fortune when it follows her. I'll after, more to be revenged on Eglamour Than for the love of reckless Silvia. [Exit] PROTEUS And I will follow, more for Silvia's love Than hate of Eglamour that goes with her. [Exit] JULIA And I will follow, more to cross that love Than hate for Silvia that is gone for love. [Exit]