This is the hour that Madam Silvia
Entreated me to call and know her mind;
There's some great matter she'd employ me in.
Enter Silvia at an upstairs window
Your servant and your friend;
One that attends your ladyship's command.
Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good morrow.
As many, worthy lady, to yourself!
According to your ladyship's impose,
I am thus early come, to know what service
It is your pleasure to command me in.
O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman –
Think not I flatter, for I swear I do not –
Valiant, wise, remorseful, well-accomplished.
Thou art not ignorant what dear good will
I bear unto the banished Valentine;
Nor how my father would enforce me marry
Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhors.
Thyself hast loved, and I have heard thee say
No grief did ever come so near thy heart
As when thy lady and thy true love died,
Upon whose grave thou vowedst pure chastity.
Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine,
To Mantua, where I hear he makes abode;
And, for the ways are dangerous to pass,
I do desire thy worthy company,
Upon whose faith and honour I repose.
Urge not my father's anger, Eglamour,
But think upon my grief, a lady's grief,
And on the justice of my flying hence,
To keep me from a most unholy match,
Which heaven and fortune still rewards with plagues.
I do desire thee, even from a heart
As full of sorrows as the sea of sands,
To bear me company and go with me;
If not, to hide what I have said to thee,
That I may venture to depart alone.
Madam, I pity much your grievances;
Which since I know they virtuously are placed,
I give consent to go along with you,
Recking as little what betideth me
As much I wish all good befortune you.
When will you go?
This evening coming.
Where shall I meet you?
At Friar Patrick's cell,
Where I intend holy confession.
I will not fail your ladyship. Good morrow,
Good morrow, kind Sir Eglamour.