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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.]