THE

TWO GENTLEMEN

OF VERONA.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

DUKE OF MILAN, father of Silvia.

VALENTINE, Gentlemen of Verona.

PROTEUS,

ANTONIO, father of 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, with whom Julia lodges in Milan.

Outlaws, with Valentine.

JULIA, a lady of Verona, beloved by Proteus.

SILVIA, beloved by Valentine.

LUCETTA, waiting-woman to Julia.

Servants, Musicians.

SCENE,-Sometimes in VERONA; sometimes in MILAN; and on the frontiers of Mantua.

SCENE I.-An open place in Verona.

Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS.

Valentine.

EASE to persuade, my loving Proteus; Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits;

Were't not affection chains thy
tender days

To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love,
I rather would entreat thy company,
To see the wonders of the world abroad,
Than, living dully sluggardized at home,
Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.
But, since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein,
Even as I would, when I to love begin.

Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu !

Think on thy Proteus, when thou, haply, see'st

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,
For I will be thy beadsman, Valentine.

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 swom the Hellespont.
Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the
boots.

Val. Nay, I will not, for it boots thee not.
Pro.

What? Val. To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans;

Coy looks with heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth

With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights;
If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain;
If lost, why then a grievous labour won;
However, but a folly bought with wit,
Or else a wit by folly vanquished.

Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool.

Val. So, by your circumstance, I fear, you'll 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 yokèd by a fool,

Methinks should not be chronicled for wise.