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. [_She tears the second 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 judgement, 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 served me as fit, by all men’s judgements, 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, moved 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. JULIA. And she shall thank you for’t, if e’er you know her. [_Exeunt Silvia and Attendants._]