Puslapio vaizdai
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Laun.

SCENE IV.

Enter Launce.

W

HEN a Man's Servant fhall play the Cur with him, look you, it goes hard! One that I brought up of a Puppy, one that I fav'd from drowning, when three or four of his blind Brothers and Sifters, went to it! I have taught him, even as one would fay precifely, thus I would teach a Dog. I was fent to deliver him as a Prefent to Miftrefs Silvia, from my Mafter; and I came no fooner into the Dining-Chamber, but he fteps 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 fay, 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 hang'd for't, fure as I live he had fuffer'd for't; you fhall judge: He thrufts me himself into the Company of three or four Gentleman-like Dogs, under the Duke's Table; he had not been there, blefs the Mark, a piffing while, but all the Chamber fmelt him: Out with the Dog. fays one; what Cur is that? fays another; whip him out, fays the third; hang him up, fays 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? Aymarry do I, quoth he. You do him the more Wrong, quoth I; 'twas I did the thing you wot of; he makes no more ado, but whips me out of the Chamber. How many Mafters would do this for his Servant? Nay, I'll be fworn I have fat in the Stocks for Puddings he has ftoll'n, otherwife he had been executed; I have ftood on the Pillory for Geefe he has kill'd, otherwife he had fuffer'd for't: Thou think'ft not of this now. Nay, I remember the Trick you ferv'd me when I took my Leave of Madam Silvia; did not I bid thee ftill mark me, and do as I do? When didft thou fee me heave up my Leg, and make Water against a Gentlewoman's Farthingale? Didst thou ever fee me do fuch a Trick?

4

Enter Protheus and Julia."

Pro, Sebaftian is thy Name? I like thee well,

And

And will imploy thee in fome Service presently.
Jul. In what you pleafe: I'll do, Sir, what I can.
Pro. I hope thou wilt.

How now, you Whore-Son Pefant,
Where have you been these two Days loitering?
Laun. Marry, Sir, I carry'd Mistress Silvia the Dog you
bad me.

Pro. And what fays fhe to my little Jewel?

Laun. Marry, the fays, your Dog was a Cur, and tells you, currish Thanks is good enough for such a Present. Pro. But the receiv'd my Dog?

Laun. No indeed fhe did not:

Here have I brought him back again.

Pro. What, did't thou offer her this from me? Laun. Ay Sir; the other Squirrel was ftoll'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 fay; ftay'ft thou to vex me here?

A Slave, that still an end turns me to Shame. [Exit Laun Sebaftian, I have entertained thee,

Partly that I have need of fuch a Youth,
That can with fome Difcretion do my Bufinefs;
For 'tis no trufting to yon foolish Lowt:
But chiefly for thy Face and thy Behaviour,
Which, if my Augury deceive me not,
Witnefs good bringing up, Fortune and Truth:
Therefore know thou, for this I entertain thee.
Go prefently, and take this Ring with thee;
Deliver it to Madam Silvia.

She lov'd me well, deliver'd it to me.

Jul. It feems you lov'd not her, to leave her Tokens She is dead belike.

Pro. Not fo: I think fhe lives.
Ful. Alas!

Pro. Why do'st thou cry alas ?

Jul. I cannot chufe but piy her.

Pro. Wherefore fhouldft thou pity her.
Jl. Becauf, methinks, that the lov'd you as well

As

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 fo contrary;
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 Promife for her heav'nly Picture.
Your Meffage done, hye home unto my Chamber,
Where thou shalt find me fad and folitary.

[Exit Pro.

Jul. How many Women would do fuch a Message?
Alas, poor Protheus, thou haft entertain'd
A Fox to be the Shepherd of thy Lambs:
Alas, poor Fool, why do I pity him
That with his very Heart defpifeth me;
Because I love him, I muft 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 Meffenger,

To plead for that which I would not obtain ;
To carry that which I would have refus'd;
To praife his Faith, which I would have difprais'd.
I am my Mafter's true confirmed Love,

But cannot be true Servant to my Master,

Unless I prove falfe Traitor to my felf:
Yet will I woo for him, but yet fo coldly,
As, Heav'n it knows, I would not have him speed.
Enter Silvia
Gentlewoman, good Day; I pray you be my mean
To bring me where to fpeak with Madam Silvia.

Sil. What would you with her, if that I be she?
Jul. If you be fhe, I do entreat your Patience
To hear me fpeak the Meffage I am fent on.

Sil. From whom?

Jul. From my Mafter, Sir Protheus, Madam:
Sil. Oh! he fends you for a Picture?
Jul. Ay, Madam.

Sil. Urfula, bring my Picture there.
Go, give your Mafter this; tell him from me;
One Julia, that his changing Thoughts forgot,
VOL. I.

I

Would

Would better fit his Chamber than this Shadow.
Jul. Madam, please you perufe 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 Mafter's Lines,

I know they are ftuft with Proteftations,
And full of new-found Oaths, which he will break
As eafie as I do tear his Paper.

Jul. Madam, he fends your Ladyship this Ring.
Sil. The more Shame for him that he fends it me;
For I have heard him fay a thousand times,
His Julia gave it him at his Departure:
Tho his falfe Finger has prophan'd the Ring,
Mine fhall not do his Julia fo much Wrong.

Jul. She thanks you.

Sil. What fay'ft thou?

Jul. I thank you, Madam, that you tender her; Poor Gentlewoman, my Mafter wrongs her much. Sil. Doft thou know her?

Jul. Almoft as well as I do know my self. To think upon her Woes, I'do proteft,

That I have wept an hundred feveral times.

Sil. Belike fhe thinks that Protheus hath forfook her.
Jul. I think the doth; and that's her cause of Sorrow.
Sil. Is he not passing fair?

Jul. She hath been fairer, Madam, than she is;
When fhe did think my Mafter lov'd her well,
She, in my Judgment, was as fair as you.
But fince the did neglect her Looking-Glafs,
And threw her Sun-expelling Mask away,
The Air hath ftarv'd the Rofes in her Cheeks,
And pinch'd the Lilly-Tincture of her Face,
That now the is become as black as I.

Sil. How tall was the?

Ful. About my Stature: For at Penticoft, When all our Pageants of Delight were plaid, Our Youth got me to play the Woman's Part,

And

And I was trim'd in Madam Julia's Gown,
Which ferved me as fit, by all Mens Judgments,
As if the Garment had been made for me;
Therefore I know fhe is about my height.
And at that time I made her weep agood,
For I did play a lamentable Part.
Madam, 'twas Ariande paffioning
For Thefeus Perjury, and unjust Flight;
Which I fo lively acted with my Tears,
That my poor Miftrefs, moved therewithal,
Wept bitterly; and would I might be dead,
If I in Thought felt not her very Sorrow.

Sil. She is beholding to thee, gentle Youth.
Alas, poor Lady! defolate and left;
I weep my felf to think upon thy Words.
Here Youth, there is a Purfe; I give thee this
For thy fweet Mistress fake, because thou lov'ft her:
Farewel.

[Exit Silvia.

Jul. And the fhall 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 the refpe&s my Mifirefs Love fo much. Alas! how Love can trifle with it felf! Here is her Picture; let me fee; I think, If I had fuch 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 my felf too much. Her Hair is Auburn, mine is perfect Yellow. If that be all the Difference in his Love, I'll get me fuch a colour'd Perriwig. Her Eyes are grey as Grafs, and fo are mine; Ay, but her Forehead's low, and mine's as high. What fhould it be that he refpects in her, But I can make refpective in my felf, If this fond Love were not a blinded God? Come, Shadow, come, and take this Shadow up; For 'tis thy Rival. O thou fenfelefs Form, Thou shalt be worship'd, kifs'd, lov'd and ador'd; And were there Sense in this Idolatry, My Substance should be Statue in thy ftead.

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