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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    Not Peer Reviewed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)

    Scoena Secunda.
    Enter Iulia and Lucetta.
    Iul. But say Lucetta (now we are alone)
    155Would'st thou then counsaile me to fall in loue?
    Luc. I Madam, so you stumble not vnheedfully.
    Iul. Of all the faire resort of Gentlemen,
    That euery day with par'le encounter me,
    In thy opinion which is worthiest loue?
    160 Lu. Please you repeat their names, ile shew my minde,
    According to my shallow simple skill.
    Iu. What thinkst thou of the faire sir Eglamoure?
    Lu. As of a Knight, well-spoken, neat, and fine;
    But were I you, he neuer should be mine.
    165Iu. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio?
    Lu. Well of his wealth; but of himselfe, so, so.
    Iu. What think'st thou of the gentle Protheus?
    Lu. Lord, Lord: to see what folly raignes in vs.
    Iu. How now? what meanes this passion at his name?
    170Lu. Pardon deare Madam, 'tis a passing shame,
    That I (vnworthy body as I am)
    Should censure thus on louely Gentlemen.
    Iu. Why not on Protheus, as of all the rest?
    Lu. Then thus: of many good, I thinke him best.
    175Iul. Your reason?
    Lu. I haue no other but a womans reason:
    I thinke him so, because I thinke him so.
    Iul. And would'st thou haue me cast my loue on him?
    Lu. I: if you thought your loue not cast away.
    180Iul. Why he, of all the rest, hath neuer mou'd me.
    Lu. Yet he, of all the rest, I thinke best loues ye.
    Iul. His little speaking, shewes his loue but small.
    Lu. Fire that's closest kept, burnes most of all.
    Iul. They doe not loue, that doe not shew their loue.
    185Lu. Oh, they loue least, that let men know their loue.
    Iul. I would I knew his minde.
    Lu. Peruse this paper Madam.
    Iul. To Iulia: say, from whom?
    Lu. That the Contents will shew.
    190Iul. Say, say: who gaue it thee?
    Lu. Sir Valentines page: & sent I think from Protheus;
    He would haue giuen it you, but I being in the way,
    Did in your name receiue it: pardon the fault I pray.
    Iul. Now (by my modesty) a goodly Broker:
    195Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines?
    To whisper, and conspire against my youth?
    Now trust me, 'tis an office of great worth,
    And you an officer fit for the place:
    There: take the paper: see it be return'd,
    200Or else returne no more into my sight.
    Lu. To plead for loue, deserues more fee, then hate.
    Iul. Will ye be gon?
    Lu. That you may ruminate. Exit.
    Iul. And yet I would I had ore-look'd the Letter>;
    205It were a shame to call her backe again,
    And pray her to a fault, for which I chid her.
    What 'foole is she, that knowes I am a Maid,
    And would not force the letter to my view?
    Since Maides, in modesty, say no, to that,
    210Which they would haue the profferer construe, I.
    Fie, fie: how way-ward is this foolish loue;
    That (like a testie Babe) will scratch the Nurse,
    And presently, all humbled kisse the Rod?
    How churlishly, I chid Lucetta hence,
    215When willingly, I would haue had her here?
    How angerly I taught my brow to frowne,
    When inward ioy enforc'd my heart to smile?
    My pennance is, to call Lucetta backe
    And aske remission, for my folly past.
    220What hoe: Lucetta.
    Lu. What would your Ladiship?
    Iul. Is't neere dinner time?
    Lu. I would it were,
    That you might kill your stomacke on your meat,
    And
    22 The two Gentlemen of Verona.
    225And not vpon your Maid.
    Iu. What is't that you
    Tooke vp so gingerly?
    Lu. Nothing.
    Iu. Why didst thou stoope then?
    230Lu. To take a paper vp, that I let fall.
    Iul. And is that paper nothing?
    Lu. Nothing concerning me.
    Iul. Then let it lye, for those that it concernes.
    Lu. Madam, it will not lye where it concernes,
    235Vnlesse it haue a false Interpreter.
    Iul. Some loue of yours, hath writ to you in Rime.
    Lu. That I might sing it (Madam) to a tune:
    Giue me a Note, your Ladiship can set
    Iul. As little by such toyes, as may be possible:
    240Best sing it to the tune of Light O, Loue.
    Lu. It is too heauy for so light a tune.
    Iu. Heauy? belike it hath some burden then?
    Lu. I: and melodious were it, would you sing it,
    Iu. And why not you?
    245Lu. I cannot reach so high.
    Iu. Let's see your Song:
    How now Minion?
    Lu. Keepe tune there still; so you will sing it out:
    And yet me thinkes I do not like this tune.
    250Iu. You doe not?
    Lu. No (Madam) tis too sharpe.
    Iu. You (Minion) are too saucie.
    Lu. Nay, now you are too flat;
    And marre the concord, with too harsh a descant:
    255There wanteth but a Meane to fill your Song.
    Iu. The meane is dround with you vnruly base.
    Lu. Indeede I bid the base for Protheus.
    Iu. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me;
    Here is a coile with protestation:
    260Goe, get you gone: and let the papers lye:
    You would be fingring them, to anger me.
    Lu. She makes it strāge, but she would be best pleas'd
    To be so angred with another Letter.
    Iu. Nay, would I were so angred with the same:
    265Oh hatefull hands, to teare such louing words;
    Iniurious Waspes, to feede on such sweet hony,
    And kill the Bees that yeelde it, with your stings;
    Ile kisse each seuerall paper, for amends:
    Looke, here is writ, kinde Iulia: vnkinde Iulia,
    270As in reuenge of thy ingratitude,
    I throw thy name against the bruzing-stones,
    Trampling contemptuously on thy disdaine.
    And here is writ, Loue wounded Protheus.
    Poore wounded name: my bosome, as a bed,
    275Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd;
    And thus I search it with a soueraigne kisse.
    But twice, or thrice, was Protheus written downe:
    Be calme (good winde) blow not a word away,
    Till I haue found each letter, in the Letter,
    280Except mine own name: That, some whirle-winde beare
    Vnto a ragged, fearefull, hanging Rocke,
    And throw it thence into the raging Sea.
    Loe, here in one line is his name twice writ:
    Poore forlorne Protheus, passionate Protheus:
    285To the sweet Iulia: that ile teare away:
    And yet I will not, sith so prettily
    He couples it, to his complaining Names;
    Thus will I fold them, one vpon another;
    Now kisse, embrace, contend, doe what you will.
    290 Lu. Madam: dinner is ready: and your father staies.
    Iu. Well, let vs goe.
    Lu. What, shall these papers lye, like Tel-tales here?
    Iu. If you respect them; best to take them vp.
    Lu. Nay, I was taken vp, for laying them downe.
    295Yet here they shall not lye, for catching cold.
    Iu. I see you haue a months minde to them.
    Lu. I (Madam) you may say what sights you see;
    I see things too, although you iudge I winke.
    Iu. Come, come, wilt please you goe. Exeunt.
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