Iu. But shall I heare him speake Ho. I that you shall Iu. That will be Musique Ho. Harke, harke Iu. Is he among these? Ho. I: but peace, let's heare'm Song. Who is Siluia? what is she? That all our Swaines commend her? Holy, faire, and wise is she, The heauen such grace did lend her, that she might admired be. Is she kinde as she is faire? For beauty liues with kindnesse: Loue doth to her eyes repaire, To helpe him of his blindnesse: And being help'd, inhabits there. Then to Siluia, let vs sing, That Siluia is excelling; She excels each mortall thing Vpon the dull earth dwelling. To her let vs Garlands bring Ho. How now? are you sadder then you were before; How doe you, man? the Musicke likes you not Iu. You mistake: the Musitian likes me not Ho. Why, my pretty youth? Iu. He plaies false (father.) Ho. How, out of tune on the strings Iu. Not so: but yet So false that he grieues my very heart-strings Ho. You haue a quicke eare Iu. I, I would I were deafe: it makes me haue a slow heart Ho. I perceiue you delight not in Musique Iu. Not a whit, when it iars so Ho. Harke, what fine change is in the Musique Iu. I: that change is the spight Ho. You would haue them alwaies play but one thing Iu. I would alwaies haue one play but one thing. But Host, doth this Sir Protheus, that we talke on, Often resort vnto this Gentlewoman? Ho. I tell you what Launce his man told me, He lou'd her out of all nicke Iu. Where is Launce? Ho. Gone to seeke his dog, which to morrow, by his Masters command, hee must carry for a present to his Lady Iu. Peace, stand aside, the company parts Pro. Sir Thurio, feare not you, I will so pleade, That you shall say, my cunning drift excels Th. Where meete we? Pro. At Saint Gregories well Th. Farewell Pro. Madam: good eu'n to your Ladiship Sil. I thanke you for your Musique (Gentlemen) Who is that that spake? Pro. One (Lady) if you knew his pure hearts truth, You would quickly learne to know him by his voice Sil. Sir Protheus, as I take it Pro. Sir Protheus (gentle Lady) and your Seruant Sil. What's your will? Pro. That I may compasse yours Sil. You haue your wish: my will is euen this, That presently you hie you home to bed: Thou subtile, periur'd, false, disloyall man: Think'st thou I am so shallow, so conceitlesse, To be seduced by thy flattery, That has't deceiu'd so many with thy vowes? Returne, returne, and make thy loue amends: For me (by this pale queene of night I sweare) I am so farre from granting thy request, That I despise thee, for thy wrongfull suite; And by and by intend to chide my selfe, Euen for this time I spend in talking to thee Pro. I grant (sweet loue) that I did loue a Lady, But she is dead Iu. 'Twere false, if I should speake it; For I am sure she is not buried