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.

Amen, amen! Go on, good Eglamour,
Out at the postern by the abbey-wall:
I fear I am attended by some spies.

Fear not: the forest is not three leagues off;
If we recover that, we are sure enough. Exeunt.

O, sir, I find her milder than she was;
And yet she takes exceptions at your person.

But pearls are fair; and the old saying is,
Black men are pearls in beauteous ladies’ eyes.

Aside. ’Tis true; such pearls as put out ladies’ eyes;
For I had rather wink than look on them.

How now, Sir Proteus! how now, Thurio!
Which of you saw Sir Eglamour of late?

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.

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.

And I will follow, more for Silvia’s love
Than hate of Eglamour that goes with her. Exit.

And I will follow, more to cross that love
Than hate for Silvia that is gone for love. Exit.

Come, come,
Be patient; we must bring you to our captain.

A thousand more mischances than this one
Have learn’d me how to brook this patiently.

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.

Come, I must bring you to our captain’s cave:
Fear not; he bears an honourable mind,
And will not use a woman lawlessly.

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!
What halloing 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?

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 forced your honour 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.

Aside. How like a dream is this I see and hear!
Love, lend me patience to forbear awhile.

Unhappy were you, madam, ere I came;
But by my coming I have made you happy.

Had I been seized by a hungry lion,
I would have been a breakfast to