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Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies' eyes. Than hate of Eglamour that goes with her. [Exit. Jul. 'T is true,“ such pearls as put out ladies' Jul. And I will follow, more to cross that love, eyes ;
Than hate for Silvia, that is gone for love. [Exit. For I had rather wink than look on them. [Aside.
THU. How likes she my discourse ?
SCENE III.-Frontiers of Mantua. The Forest. peace? Jul. But better, indeed, when
Enter Silvia and Outlaws. hold
you your peace.
1 Out. Come, come ; Thu. What says she to my valour ?
Be patient, we must bring you to our captain. Pro. O, sir, she makes no doubt of that.
SIL. A thousand more mischances than this one JUL. She needs not, when she knows it cowardice.
Have learn’d me how to brook this patiently. [Aside.
2 Out. Come, bring her away. Tuu. What says she to my birth ?
1 Out. Where is the gentleman that was with Pro. That you are well derivd.
her ? Jul. True; from a gentleman to a fool. [Aside.
3 Out. Being nimble-footed, he hath outrun us, Thu. Considers she my possessions ?
But Moyses and Valerius follow him. Pro. O, ay; and pities them.
Go thou with her to the west end of the wood, Tuu. Wherefore ? JUL. That such an ass should owe them. [Aside.
There is our captain : we'll follow him that’s fled,
The thicket is beset, he cannot ’scape. Pro. That they are out by lease."
1 Out. Come, I must bring you to our captain's JUL. Here comes the duke.
Fear not; he bears an honourable mind,
And will not use a woman lawlessly.
Sil. O Valentine, this I endure for thee.[Exeunt. Thurio ? Which of you saw sir Eglamour of late ? Tho. Not I.
SCENE IV.-—Another part of the Forest. PRO. Nor I. DUKE. Saw you my daughter?
Enter VALENTINE. PRO.
Neither. DUKE. Why, then, she's fled unto that peasant Val. How use doth breed a habit in a man ! Valentine ;
This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods, And Eglamour is in her company.
I better brook than flourishing peopled towns : 'Tis true; for friar Lawrence met them both, Here can I sit alone, unseen of any, As he in penance wander'd through the forest : And to the nightingale's complaining notes Him he knew well, and guess'd that it was she ; Tune my distresses, and recordo my woes. But, being mask’d, he was not sure of it:
O thou that dost inhabit in my breast, Besides, she did intend confession
Leave not the mansion so long tenantless ; At Patrick's cell this even ; and there she was not: Lest, growing ruinous, the building fall, These likelihoods confirm her flight from hence. And leave no memory of what it was ! Therefore, I pray you, stand not to discourse, Repair me with thy presence, Silvia ; But mount you presently, and meet with me 'i hou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain ! Upon the rising of the mountain-foot
What hallooing, and what stir, is this to-day ? That leads toward Mantua, whither they are fled. These are my mates, that make their wills their Despatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me. [Exit.
law, Tau. Why, this it is to be a peevish girl, Have some unhappy passenger in chase : That flies her fortune when it follows her: They love me well; yet I have much to do, I'll after; more to be reveng'd on Eglamour, To keep them from uncivil outrages. Than for the love of reckless Silvia. Exit. Withdraw thee, Valentine; who 's this comes here? Pro. And I will follow, more for Silvia's love,
'Tis true, &c.) In the folio, 1623, this line is given to Thurio. There can be no doubt that it belongs to Julia.
That they are out by lease.) The meaning has been controverted. Lord Hailes explains it thus:-“ By Thurio's possessions he himself understands his lands. But Proteus chooses to take the word likewise in a figurative sense, as signifying his mental
endowments; and when he says they are out by lease, he means that they are no longer enjoyed by their master, (who is a fool,) but are leaxed out to another."
c And record my woes.) To record refers to the singing of birds, and is derived, Douce says, from the recorder,-a sort of flute by which they were taught to sing.
Enter PROTEUS, Silvia, and JULIA. I 'll woo you like a soldier, at arms' end ;
And love you 'gainst the nature of love, force you. Pro. Madam, this service I have done for you, SIL. O Heaven ! (Though you respect not aught your servant doth,) Pro.
I 'll force thee yield to
desire. To hazard life, and rescue you from im
Val. Ruffian, let go that rude uncivil touch; That would have forc'd your honour and your love. Thou friend of an ill fashion ! Vouchsafe me, for my meed, but one fair look ; Pro.
Valentine ! A smaller boon than this I cannot beg,
VAL. Thou common friend, that's without faith And less than this, I am sure, you cannot give.
or love; VAL. How like a dream is this I see and hear! (For such is a friend now;) treacherous man ! Love, lend me patience to forbear a while. [Aside. Thou hast beguild my hopes ; nought but mine Sil. O miserable, unhappy that I am !
eye Pro. Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came; Could have persuaded me : now I dare not say But, by my coming, I have made you happy. I have one friend alive ; thou wouldst disprove me. SIL. By thy approach thou mak’st me most Who should be trusted when one's own* right hand unhappy.
Is perjur'd to the bosom? Proteus, Jul. And me, when he approacheth to your I am sorry I must never trust thee more, presence.
But count the world a stranger for thy sake. Sir. Had I been seized by a hungry lion, The private wound is deepest: O time most I would have been a breakfast to the beast,
accurs'd ! Rather than have false Proteus rescue me.
’Mongst all foes, that a friend should be the worst. 0, Heaven be judge how I love Valentine,
Pro. My shame, and guilt, confounds me.Whose life 's as tender to me as my soul ;
Forgive me, Valentine: if hearty sorrow
I tender it here; I do as truly suffer
As e'er I did commit. Pro. What dangerous action, stood it next to VAL.
Then I am paid; death,
And once again I do receive thee honest :Would I not undergo for one calm look ?
Who by repentance is not satisfied 0, 't is the curse in love, and still approv’d, Is nor of heaven, nor earth ; for these are pleas'd; When women cannot love where they're belov’d. By penitence the Eternal's wrath 's appeas'd, Sil. When Proteus cannot love where he's | And, that my love may appear plain and free, belov'd.
All that was mine, in Silvia, I give thee.b Read over Julia's heart, thy first best love,
JUL. O me, unhappy !
[Faints. For whose dear sake thou didst then rend thy faith PRO.
Look to the boy. Into a thousand oaths; and all those oaths
Why, boy! Descended into perjury, to love me.
Why, wag ! how now? what 's the matter ? Look Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou’dst two,
up; speak. And that's far worse than none; better have none Jul. O good sir, my master charged me to Than plural faith, which is too much by one: deliver a ring to madam Silvia ; which, out of my Thou counterfeit to thy true friend !
neglect, was never done. PRO.
Pro. Where is that ring, boy? Who respects friend?
JUL. Here 't is: this is it. [Gives a ring.
PRO. How ! let me see:
JUL. O, cry you mercy, sir, I have mistook ;
gave to Julia.
a And still approv'd,-) That is, always proved. Soin “Othello," Act I. Sc. 3,
“My very noble and approv'd good masters." 6 All that was mine, in Silvia, I give thee.) No passage in the play has caused so much perplexity to the commentators as this. "It is, I think, very odd,” remarks Pope, “to give up his mistress thus at once, without any reason alleged;"--and every reader thinks so tvo; and innumerable have been the expedients suggested to remove the anomaly. It has been proposed to transfer the lines to Thurio in another scene; and Mr. Knight intimates that, with a slight alteration, they might be given to Silvia, Mr. Baron Field suggested we should read,
"All that was thine, in Silvia I give thee." i.e. "I will make up my love for you as large as the love you once had for Silvia." The most plausible correction is, I think,
(*) Own is not in First folio. the transferring the disputed lines to Proteus, but reading Julia for Silvia, thus:
“And, that my love may appear plain and free,
All that was mine, in Julia, I give thee." All the love I once felt for Julia, I will henceforth dedicate to my friendship for you.
Whatever may be thought of this conjecture, no one can believe the lines were spoken by Valentine, after seeing the vehemence with which he repels the advances of Thurio to his mistress subsequently, even in the presence of her father, the Duke:
“Do not name Silvia thine; if once again,
Verona shall not hold thee. Here she stands;
This is the ring you sent to Silvia.
[Shows another ring. Pro. But how camest thou by this ring ? At my depart, I gave this unto Julia.
JUL. And Julia herself did give it me; And Julia herself hath brought it hither.
PRO. How! Julia !
Jul. Behold her that gave aim to all thy oaths, And entertain'd them deeply in her heart : How oft hast thou with perjury cleft the root ? b O Proteus, let this habit make thee blush ! Be thou asham'd, that I have took upon me Such an immodest raiment; if shame live In a disguise of love : It is the lesser blot, modesty finds, Women to change their shapes, than men their
minds. Pro. Than men their minds ! 't is true; O
But constant, he were perfect : that one error
th' sins :
VAL. Come, come, a hand from either :
Enter Outlaws, with DUKE and THURIO.
Heaven ! were man
* That gave aim-] To give aim, and to cry aim, have been so admirably explained and discriminated by Mr. Gifford, that we cannot do better than append his note upon the expressions :" Aim! for so it should be printed, and not cry aim, was always addressed to the person about to shoot; it was an hortatory exclamation of the bystanders, or, as Massinger has it, of the idle lookers-on, intended for his encouragement. To cry aim ! was to encourage; to give aim was to direct; and in these distinct
and appropriate senses the words perpetually occur. Those who cried aimi stood by the archers; he who gave it, was stationed near the butts, and pointed out, after every discharge, how wide, or how short, the arrow fell of the mark."
b Cleft the root?] That is, of her heart. She is carrying on the allusion to archery. To cleave the pin was to split the wooden peg which attached the target to the butt.
DUKE. I grant it, for thine own, whate'er it be. Thu. Yonder is Silvia; and Silvia's mine.
VAL. These banish'd men, that I have kept VAL. Thurio, give back, or else embrace thy
Are men endued with worthy qualities ; Come not within the measure of my wrath : Forgive them what they have committed here, Do not name Silvia thine ; if once again,
And let them be recall’d from their exile : Verona shall not hold thee. Here she stands; They are reformed, civil, full of good, Take but possession of her with a touch ;
And fit for great employment, worthy lord. I dare thee but to breathe upon my love.
DUKE. Thou hast prevail'd; I pardon them, Tau. Sir Valentine, I care not for her, I;
ard thee; I hold him but a fool, that will endanger
Dispose of them, as thou know'st their deserts. His body for a girl that loves him not :
Come, let us go; we will include all jars I claim her not, and therefore she is thine. With triumphs, mirth, and rare solemnity.(1)
DUKE. The more degenerate and base art thou, VAL. And, as we walk along, I dare be bold To make such means for her as thou hast done, With our discourse to make your grace to smile : And leave her on such slight conditions. — What think you of this page, my lord ? Now, by the honour of my ancestry,
DUKE. I think the boy hath grace in him ; he I do applaud thy spirit, Valentine,
blushes. And think thee worthy of an empress' love !
Val. I warrant you, my lord; more grace than Know then, I here forget all former griefs,
boy. Cancel all grudge, repeal thee home again. - DUKE. What mean you by that saying ? Plead a new state in thy unrivall’d merit,
VAL. Please you, I'll tell you as we pass To which I thus subscribe,—Sir Valentine,
along, Thou art & gentleman, and well deriv'd ;
will wonder what hath fortuned. Take thou thy Silvia, for thou hast deserv'd her. Come, Proteus ; 't is your penance, but to hear Val. I thank your grace; the gift hath made The story of your loves discovered : me happy
That done, our day of marriage shall be yours ; I now beseech you, for your daughter's sake, One feast, one house, one mutual happiness. To grant one boon that I shall ask of you.
* Verona shall not hold thee.] This is the reading of the only authentic edition of the present play we possess. Theobald, upon the ground that Thurio was a Milanese, and that the scene is between the contines of Milan and Mantua, changed the reading to
“Milan shall not hehold thee;"
and he has been followed by nearly every editor but Malone.
b Plead a new state in thy unrivalled merit,–] There is some obscurity here. Mr. Singer says,—" Do thou put in a plea for reinstatement in forfeited honours, or claim an enhancement of dignity, and I set my hand to it in these terms:—Sir Valentine, thou art a gentleman !'"
(1) SCENE I.–Nay, give me not the boots.] To give one the boots, like the French equivalent, donner le change à quelqu'un, means, to sell him a bargain.
" Acc. What, doo you give me the boots ?
LILLY's Mother Bombie, 1594. So also in “The Weakest go to the Wall,” 1618 :
" 'Tis not your big belly nor your fat bacon can carry it away, if you offer us the boots."
Steevens thinks the expression arose from a sport the conntry people in Warwickshire use at their harvest-home, where one sits as judge to try misdemeanours committed in harvest; and the punishment for the men is to be laid on a bench and slapped on the breech with a pair of boots.
But he remarks, the allusion may be to the dreadful punishment known as the boots. In Harl. MSS., 6999 -48, Mr. T. Randolph writes to Lord Hunsdon, and mentions in the P.S. to his letter, that George Fluke had yesterday night the boots, and is said to have confessed that the Earl of Morton was privy to the poisoning the Earl of Athol, 16th March, 1580 ; and in another letter, March 18th, 1580, “that the Laird of Wittingham had the boots, but without torment, confess'd,” &c. The punishment consisted in putting on the victim a pair of iron boots, fitting close to the leg, and then driving wedges with a mallet between those and the limb. Not a great while before this play was written, Douce tells us it was inflicted on a poor wretch, one Fian, in Scotland, in the presence of King James (afterwards our James the First). Fian was supposed to be a wizard, and to have been concerned in raising the storms which the King encountered on his matrimonial expedition to Denmark. The account of the transaction, which is contained in a very curious old pamphlet, states that Fian "was with all convenient speed, by, commandement, convaied againe to the torment of the boots, wherein he continued a long time, and did abide so many blows in them, that his legges were crushte and beaten togeather as sinall as might bee, and the bones and flesh so brused that the bloud and marrowe spouted forth in great abundance, whereby they were made unserviceable for ever." The miserable man was afterwards burned.
(3) SCENE I.—You have testern'd me.] The old copy reads cestern'd—a palpable corruption. The tester, testern, teston, derives its name, some suppose, from the French teston, so called on account of the King's head first appearing on this coin,-Louis XII, 1513; or from an Italian coin of the same denomination. In England the name is said to have been first applied to the shilling (originally coined by Henry VII.), at the beginning of the reign of Henry VIII., and was at first of the value of twelve silver pennies ; it subsequently became much reduced ; and its debasement by an admixture of copper, temp. 1551, and again, 1560, is satirized in Heywood's “Epigrams :
“ These testons, look, read; how like you the same ?
'Tis a token of grace-they blush for shame." At the latter period named, it was so far reduced as to be worth but fourpence halfpenny ; but it afterwards rose in value again to the value of sixpence.
“ Sir Toby. Come on; there is sixpence for you, let's have a song.
Sir Andrew. There's a testril of me too ; if one knight give aClown. Would you have a love song," &c.
Twelfth Night, Act II. Sc. 3. And it appears to have ever since continued as popular name for that coin.
(4) SCENE II.- What ho! Lucetta ] It may be interesting to compare this scene with the corresponding portion of Felismena's story in Book II. of Bartholomew Yong's translation of the "Diana” of Montemayor, 1598 :
But to see the meanes that Rosina made unto me (for so was she called), the dutifull services and unwoonted circumstances, before she did deliver it, the othes that she sware unto me, and the subtle words and serious protestations she used, it was a pleasant thing, and woorthie the noting. To whom (neverthelesse) with an angrie countenance I turned againo, saying, If I had not regard of mine owne estate, and what hereafter might be said, I would make this shamelesse face of thine be knowne ever after for a marke of an impudent and bolde minion : but bicause it is the first time, let this suffice that I have saide, and give thee warning to take heed of the second.
“Me thinkes I see now the craftie wench, how she helde her peace, dissembling very cunningly the sorrow that she conceived by my angrie answer ; for she fained a counterfaite smiling, saying, Jesus, mistresse! I gave it you, bicause you might laugh at it, and not to moove your patience with it in this sort; for if I had any thought that it would have provoked you to anger, I praie God he may shew his wrath as great towards me as ever he did to the daughter of any mother. And with this she added many wordes more (as she could do well enough) to pacifie the fained anger and ill opinion that I had conceived of her, and taking her letter with her, she departed from me. This having passed thus, I began to imagine what might ensue thereof, and love (me thought) did put a certaine desire into my minde to see the letter, though modestie and shame forbad me to ask it of my maide, especially for the wordes that had passed betweene us, as you have heard. And so I continued all that day untill night, in varietie of many thoughts ; but when Rosina came to helpe me to
(2) SCENE I.-I, a lost muutton, gave your letter to her, a laced mutton.) Laced mutton was, from a very early period of our history, a cant phrase to express a courtesan. In our author's time, according to Malone, it was so established a terın for one of these unfortunates, that a street in Clerkenwell, mr.ch frequented by them, was then called Mutton lane. Mr. Dyce suggests that, in the present instance, the expression might not be regarded as synonymous with courtesan; and that Speed applied the term to Julia in the much less offensive sense of a richly-attired piece of sroman's flesh. We believe there was but one meaning attached to the term ; and the only palliation for Speed's application of it in this case is, that in reality it was not the lady, but her waiting-maid, to whom he gave the letter.