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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    Not Peer Reviewed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)

    Scœna Secunda.
    Enter Protheus, Thurio, Iulia, Host, Musitian, Siluia.
    Pro. Already haue I bin false to Valentine,
    And now I must be as vniust to Thurio,
    1625Vnder the colour of commending him,
    I haue accesse my owne loue to prefer.
    But Siluia is too faire, too true, too holy,
    To be corrupted with my worthlesse guifts;
    When I protest true loyalty to her,
    1630She twits me with my falsehood to my friend;
    When to her beauty I commend my vowes,
    She bids me thinke how I haue bin forsworne
    In breaking faith with Iulia, whom I lou'd;
    And notwithstanding all her sodaine quips,
    1635The least whereof would quell a louers hope:
    Yet (Spaniel-like) the more she spurnes my loue,
    The more it growes, and fawneth on her still;
    But here comes Thurio; now must we to her window,
    And giue some euening Musique to her eare.
    1640Th. How now, sir Protheus, are you crept before vs?
    Pro. I gentle Thurio, for you know that loue
    Will creepe in seruice, where it cannot goe.
    Th. I, but I hope, Sir, that you loue not here.
    Pro. Sir, but I doe: or else I would be hence.
    1645Th. Who, Siluia?
    Pro. I, Siluia, for your sake.
    Th. I thanke you for your owne: Now Gentlemen
    Let's tune: and too it lustily a while.
    Ho. Now, my yong guest; me thinks your' allycholly;
    1650I pray you why is it?
    Iu. Marry (mine Host) because I cannot be merry.
    Ho. Come, we'll haue you merry: ile bring you where
    you shall heare Musique, and see the Gentleman that
    you ask'd for.
    1655Iu. But shall I heare him speake.
    Ho. I that you shall.
    Iu. That will be Musique.
    Ho. Harke, harke.
    Iu. Is he among these?
    1660Ho. I: but peace, let's heare'm.
    Who is Siluia? what is she?
    That all our Swaines commend her?
    Holy, faire, and wise is she,
    The heauen such grace did lend her,
    1665 that she might admired be.
    Is she kinde as she is faire?
    For beauty liues with kindnesse:
    Loue doth to her eyes repaire,
    To helpe him of his blindnesse:
    1670 And being help'd, inhabits there.
    Then to Siluia, let vs sing,
    That Siluia is excelling;
    She excels each mortall thing
    Vpon the dull earth dwelling.
    1675 To her let vs Garlands bring.
    Ho. How now? are you sadder then you were before;
    How doe you, man? the Musicke likes you not.
    Iu. You mistake: the Musitian likes me not.
    Ho. Why, my pretty youth?
    1680Iu. He plaies false (father.)
    Ho. How, out of tune on the strings.
    Iu. Not so: but yet
    So false that he grieues my very heart-strings.
    Ho. You haue a quicke eare.
    1685 Iu. I, I would I were deafe: it makes me haue a slow (heart.
    Ho. I perceiue you delight not in Musique.
    Iu. Not a whit, when it iars so.
    Ho. Harke, what fine change is in the Musique.
    Iu. I: that change is the spight.
    1690 Ho. You would haue them alwaies play but one thing.
    Iu. I would alwaies haue one play but one thing.
    But Host, doth this Sir Protheus, that we talke on,
    Often resort vnto this Gentlewoman?
    Ho. I tell you what Launce his man told me,
    1695He lou'd her out of all nicke.
    Iu. Where is Launce?
    Ho. Gone to seeke his dog, which to morrow, by his
    Masters command, hee must carry for a present to his
    1700Iu. Peace, stand aside, the company parts.
    Pro. Sir Thurio, feare not you, I will so pleade,
    That you shall say, my cunning drift excels.
    Th. Where meete we?
    Pro. At Saint Gregories well.
    1705Th. Farewell.
    Pro. Madam: good eu'n to your Ladiship.
    Sil. I thanke you for your Musique (Gentlemen)
    Who is that that spake?
    Pro. One (Lady) if you knew his pure hearts truth,
    1710You would quickly learne to know him by his voice.
    Sil. Sir Protheus, as I take it.
    Pro. Sir Protheus (gentle Lady) and your Seruant.
    Sil. What's your will?
    Pro. That I may compasse yours.
    1715Sil. You haue your wish: my will is euen this,
    That presently you hie you home to bed:
    Thou subtile, periur'd, false, disloyall man:
    Think'st thou I am so shallow, so conceitlesse,
    To be seduced by thy flattery,
    1720That has't deceiu'd so many with thy vowes?
    Returne, returne and make thy loue amends:
    For me (by this pale queene of night I sweare)
    I am so farre from granting thy request,
    That I despise thee, for thy wrongfull suite;
    1725And by and by intend to chide my selfe,
    Euen for this time I spend in talking to thee.
    Pro. I grant (sweet loue) that I did loue a Lady,
    But she is dead.
    Iu. 'Twere false, if I should speake it;
    1730For I am sure she is not buried.
    Sil. Say that she be: yet Valentine thy friend
    Suruiues; to whom (thy selfe art witnesse)
    I am betroth'd; and art thou not asham'd
    To wrong him, with thy importunacy?
    1735Pro. I likewise heare that Valentine is dead.
    Sil. And so suppose am I; for in her graue
    Assure thy selfe, my loue is buried.
    Pro. Sweet Lady, let me rake it from the earth.
    Sil. Goe to thy Ladies graue and call hers thence,
    1740Or at the least, in hers, sepulcher thine.
    Iul. He heard not that.
    Pro. Madam: if your heart be so obdurate:
    Vouchsafe me yet your Picture for my loue,
    The Picture that is hanging in your chamber:
    1745To that ile speake, to that ile sigh and weepe:
    For since the substance of your perfect selfe
    Is else deuoted, I am but a shadow;
    And to your shadow, will I make true loue.
    Iul. If 'twere a substance you would sure deceiue it,
    1750And make it but a shadow, as I am.
    Sil. I am very loath to be your Idoll Sir;
    But, since your falsehood shall become you well
    To worship shadowes, and adore false shapes,
    Send to me in the morning, and ile send it:
    1755And so, good rest.
    Pro. As wretches haue ore-night
    That wait for execution in the morne.
    Iul. Host, will you goe?
    Ho. By my hallidome, I was fast asleepe.
    1760Iul. Pray you, where lies Sir Protheus?
    Ho. Marry, at my house:
    Trust me, I thinke 'tis almost day.
    Iul. Not so: but it hath bin the longest night
    That ere I watch'd, and the most heauiest.