PERSONS REPRESENTED. Duke of Milan, father to Silvia. Valentine,} Gentlemen of Verona. Antonio, father to Proteus. Thurio, a foolish rival to Valentine. Eglamour, agent for Silvia in her escape. Speed, a clownish servant to Valentine. Launce, servant to Proteus. Panthino, servant to Antonio. Host, where Julia lodges in Milan. Outlaws. Julia, a lady of Verona, beloved by Proteus. Silvia, the duke's daughter, beloved by Valentine. Lucetta, waiting-woman to Julia. Servants, musicians. Scene, sometimes in Verona; sometimes in Milan; and on the frontiers of Mantua. TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. ACT I. SCENE I. An open place in Verona. Enter Valentine and Proteus. Valentine. CEASE to persuade, my loving Proteus; Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits: But, since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein, Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu! Think on thy Proteus, when thou, haply, seest Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel: Wish me partaker in thy happiness, When thou dost meet good hap; and, in thy danger, If ever danger do environ thee, Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers, Val. And on a love-book pray for my success. Pro. Upon some book I love, I'll pray for thee. Val. That's on some shallow story of deep love, How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont. Pro. That's a deep story of a deeper love, For he was more than over shoes in love. Val. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love, And yet you never swam the Hellespont. Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots. Val. No, I'll not, for it boots thee not. Pro. Val. What? To be In love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks, With heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth, Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. prove. Pro. 'Tis love you cavil at; I am not Love. Val. Love is your master, for he masters you: And he that is so yoked by a fool, Methinks should not be chronicled for wise. Val. And writers say, As the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by love the young and tender wit A humorous punishment at harvest-home feasts, &c. But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee, Once more adieu: my father at the road Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. Val. Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave. At Milan, let me hear from thee by letters, Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan ! Enter Speed. Speed. Sir Proteus, save you: saw you my ma. ster? Pro. But now he parted hence, to embark for Milan. Speed. Twenty to one then, he is shipp'd already; And I have play'd the sheep, in losing him. Pro. Indeed a sheep doth very often stray, An if the shepherd be awhile away. Speed. You conclude that my master is a shepherd then, and I a sheep? Pro. I do. Speed. Why then my horns are his horns, whether Pro. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep. Pro. True; and thy master a shepherd. |