Milan. The Court of the Duke's Palace. Below Silvia's Window.
 Enter LAUNCE with his dog, Crab.

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 think'st 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 disguised as a boy.

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?
	A slave, that still an end turns me to shame.
												[Exit LAUNCE.
	Sebastian, I have entertaind 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 behaviour,
	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 delivered it to me.
												[Giving JULIA a ring.

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 on 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 on 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 entertained
	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 confirmd 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.

	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 there.

                      Enter URSULA with the picture.

	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.
												[Gives her a letter.
	Pardon me, madam, I have unadvised
	Delivered you a paper that I should not.
	This is the letter to your ladyship.
									[Takes back the first letter,
											then gives her another.

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 stuffed with protestations,
	And full of new-found oaths, which he will break
	As easily as I do tear his paper.
												[Tearing the letter.

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 sayst 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 pinched 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 played,
	Our youth got me to play the woman's part,
	And I was trimmed in Madam Julia's gown,
	Which servd 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, movd 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 lov'st her.
	Farewell.
										[Exeunt SILVIA and URSULA.

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 flattered 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 coloured 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 worshipped, kissed, 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 scratched out your unseeing eyes,
	To make my master out of love with thee.
												[Exit.
