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  • Title: Two Gentlemen of Verona (Folio 1, 1623)

    • Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Not Peer Reviewed

    Two Gentlemen of Verona (Folio 1, 1623)

    300 Scoena Tertia.
    Enter Antonio and Panthino. Protheus.
    Ant. Tell me Panthino, what sad talke was that,
    Wherewith my brother held you in the Cloyster?
    Pan. 'Twas of his Nephew Protheus, your Sonne.
    305Ant. Why? what of him?
    Pan. He wondred that your Lordship
    Would suffer him, to spend his youth at home,
    While other men, of slender reputation
    Put forth their Sonnes, to seeke preferment out.
    310Some to the warres, to try their fortune there;
    Some, to discouer Islands farre away:
    Some, to the studious Vniuersities;
    For any, or for all these exercises,
    He said, that Protheus, your sonne, was meet;
    315And did request me, to importune you
    To let him spend his time no more at home;
    Which would be great impeachment to his age,
    In hauing knowne no trauaile in his youth.
    Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that
    320Whereon, this month I haue bin hamering.
    I haue consider'd well, his losse of time,
    And how he cannot be a perfect man,
    Not being tryed, and tutord in the world:
    Experience is by industry atchieu'd,
    325And perfected by the swift course of time:
    Then tell me, whether were I best to send him?
    Pan. I thinke your Lordship is not ignorant
    How his companion, youthfull Valentine,
    Attends the Emperour in his royall Court.
    330Ant. I know it well.
    Pan. 'Twere good, I thinke, your Lordship sent him(thither,
    There shall he practise Tilts, and Turnaments;
    Heare sweet discourse, conuerse with Noble-men,
    And be in eye of euery Exercise
    335Worthy his youth, and noblenesse of birth.
    Ant. I like thy counsaile: well hast thou aduis'd:
    And that thou maist perceiue how well I like it,
    The execution of it shall make knowne;
    Euen with the speediest expedition,
    340I will dispatch him to the Emperors Court.
    Pan. To morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso,
    With other Gentlemen of good esteeme
    Are iournying, to salute the Emperor,
    And to commend their seruice to his will.
    345 Ant. Good company: with them shall Protheus go:
    And in good time: now will we breake with him.
    Pro. Sweet Loue, sweet lines, sweet life,
    Here is her hand, the agent of her heart;
    Here is her oath for loue, her honors paune;
    O
    The two Gentlemen of Verona. 23
    350O that our Fathers would applaud our loues
    To seale our happinesse with their consents.
    Pro. Oh heauenly Iulia.
    Ant. How now? What Letter are you reading there?
    Pro. May't please your Lordship, 'tis a word or two
    355Of commendations sent from Valentine;
    Deliuer'd by a friend, that came from him.
    Ant. Lend me the Letter: Let me see what newes.
    Pro. There is no newes (my Lord) but that he writes
    How happily he liues, how well-belou'd,
    360And daily graced by the Emperor;
    Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.
    Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish?
    Pro. As one relying on your Lordships will,
    And not depending on his friendly wish.
    365Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish:
    Muse not that I thus sodainly proceed;
    For what I will, I will, and there an end:
    I am resolu'd, that thou shalt spend some time
    With Valentinus, in the Emperors Court:
    370What maintenance he from his friends receiues,
    Like exhibition thou shalt haue from me,
    To morrow be in readinesse, to goe,
    Excuse it not: for I am peremptory.
    Pro. My Lord I cannot be so soone prouided,
    375Please you deliberate a day or two.
    Ant. Look what thou want'st shal be sent after thee:
    No more of stay: to morrow thou must goe;
    Come on Panthmo; you shall be imployd,
    To hasten on his Expedition.
    380 Pro. Thus haue I shund the fire, for feare of burning,
    And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd.
    I fear'd to shew my Father IuliasLetter,
    Least he should take exceptions to my loue,
    And with the vantage of mine owne excuse
    385Hath he excepted most against my loue.
    Oh, how this spring of loue resembleth
    The vncertaine glory of an Aprill day,
    Which now shewes all the beauty of the Sun,
    And by and by a clowd takes all away.
    390Pan. Sir Protheus, your Fathers call's for you,
    He is in hast, therefore I pray you go.
    Pro. Why this it is: my heart accords thereto,
    And yet a thousand times it answer's no.
    Exeunt. Finis.
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