Nor I.
Duke.
Saw you my daughter?
Pro.
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 toward Mantua, whither they are fled.
Dispatch, sweet gentlemen, and follow me.
[Exit.]
Thu.
Why, this it is to be a peevish girl,
That flies her fortune when it follows her.
I’ll after, more to be reveng’d on Eglamour
Than for the love of reckless Silvia.
[Exit.]
Pro.
And I will follow, more for Silvia’s love
Than hate of Eglamour that goes with her.
[Exit.]
Jul.
And I will follow, more to cross that love
Than hate for Silvia, that is gone for love.
Exit.
¶
Scene III
[Enter] Silvia, Outlaws.
1. Out.
Come, come,
Be patient; we must bring you to our captain.
Sil.
A thousand more mischances than this one
Have learn’d me how to brook this patiently.
2. Out.
Come, bring her away.
1. Out.
Where is the gentleman that was with her?
3. Out.
Being nimble-footed, he hath outrun us,
But Moyses and Valerius follow him.
Go thou with her to the west end of the wood;
There is our captain. We’ll follow him that’s fled—
The thicket is beset, he cannot scape.
1. Out.
Come, I must bring you to our captain’s cave.
Fear not; he bears an honorable mind,
And will not use a woman lawlessly.
Sil.
O Valentine, this I endure for thee!
Exeunt.
¶
Scene IV
Enter Valentine.
Val.
How use doth breed a habit in a man!
This shadowy desert, unfrequented woods,
I better brook than flourishing peopled towns:
Here can I sit alone, unseen of any,
And to the nightingale’s complaining notes
Tune my distresses and record my woes.
O thou that dost inhabit in my breast,
Leave not the mansion so long tenantless,
Lest growing ruinous, the building fall
And leave no memory of what it was!
Repair me with thy presence, Silvia;
Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain.
[Shouts within.]
What hallowing and what stir is this to-day?
These are my mates, that make their wills their law,
Have some unhappy passenger in chase.
They love me well; yet I have much to do
To keep them from uncivil outrages.
Withdraw thee, Valentine: who’s this comes here?
[Steps aside.]
[Enter] Proteus, Silvia, Julia [disguised as Sebastian].
Pro.
Madam, this service I have done for you
(Though you respect not aught your servant doth)
To hazard life, and rescue you from him
That would have forc’d your honor and your love.
Vouchsafe me, for my meed, but one fair look:
A smaller boon than this I cannot beg,
And less than this, I am sure you cannot give.
Val. [Aside.]
How like a dream is this! I see, and hear:
Love, lend me patience to forbear a while.
Sil.
O miserable, unhappy that I am!
Pro.
Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came;
But by my coming I have made you happy.
Sil.
By thy approach thou mak’st me most unhappy.
Jul. [Aside.]
And me, when he approacheth to your presence.
Sil.
Had I been seized by a hungry lion,
I would have been a breakfast to the beast
Rather than have false Proteus rescue me.
O heaven be judge how I love Valentine,
Whose life’s as tender to me as my soul!
And full as much (for more there cannot be)