Читать книгу The Complete Works of Shakespeare онлайн

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Descended into perjury, to love me.

Thou hast no faith left now, unless thou’dst two,

And that’s far worse than none: better have none

Than plural faith, which is too much by one.

Thou counterfeit to thy true friend!

Pro.

In love

Who respects friend?

Sil.

All men but Proteus.

Pro.

Nay, if the gentle spirit of moving words

Can no way change you to a milder form,

I’ll woo you like a soldier, at arm’s end,

And love you ’gainst the nature of love—force ye.

Sil.

O heaven!

Pro.

I’ll force thee yield to my desire.

Val. [Coming forward.]

Ruffian! let go that rude uncivil touch,

Thou friend of an ill fashion!

Pro.

Valentine!

Val.

Thou common friend, that’s without faith or love,

For such is a friend now! treacherous man,

Thou hast beguil’d my hopes! Nought but mine eye

Could have persuaded me; now I dare not say

I have one friend alive; thou wouldst disprove me.

Who should be trusted, when one’s right hand

Is perjured to the bosom? Proteus,

I am sorry I must never trust thee more,