Excerpt from The Two Gentlemen of Verona - anthology.

Excerpt from The Two Gentlemen of Verona - anthology. One of Shakespeare's earliest comedies, The Two Gentlemen of Verona follows the romantic fortunes of Proteus and Valentine, the gentlemen of the title. The changeable Proteus, having left his lover Julia in Verona with promises of affection, has traveled to Milan at his father's request. There he has fallen for Silvia, who is engaged to his friend Valentine. Unknown to Proteus, Julia has followed him to Milan, dressed as a page-boy. In this scene she watches as Proteus pretends to help Thurio, another suitor for Silvia's hand, to win Silvia's love by serenading her; the deceitful Proteus then remains behind to plead his own suit. Despite Silvia's obvious disinterest, and her strong disapproval of his disloyal behaviour towards both his friend and his lover, he persists, falsely claiming that both Valentine and Julia are dead. Although the situation presented is painful, there is much humour in the scene when staged, deriving from the hoodwinking of Thurio, the outrageous nature of Proteus's vain attempts to woo the exasperated Silvia, and the bitter irony in Julia's sharp wit, demonstrated in her double-edged comment to the Host that Proteus "plays false"--not, as the confused Host takes it to mean, in his music, but in his love. The Two Gentlemen of Verona Act 4, Scene ii Enter Proteus PROTEUS. Already have I been false to Valentine, And now I must be as unjust to Thurio; Under the colour of commending him, I have access my own love to prefer; But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy, To he corrupted with my worthless gifts. When I protest true loyalty to her, She twits me with my falsehood to my friend; When to her beauty I commend my vows, She bids me think how I have been forsworn In breaking faith with Julia, whom I loved; And notwithstanding all her sudden quips, The least whereof would quell a lover's hope, Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love The more it grows and fawneth on her still. Enter Thurio and Musicians But here comes Thurio. Now must we to her window, And give some evening music to her ear. THURIO. How now, Sir Proteus, are you crept before us? PROTEUS. Ay, gentle Thurio; for you know that love Will creep in service where it cannot go. THURIO. Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here. PROTEUS. Sir, but I do; or else I would be hence. THURIO. Who? Silvia? PROTEUS. Ay, Silvia--for your sake. THURIO. I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen, Let's tune, and to it lustily awhile. Enter, some way off, the Host of the Inn, and Julia in a page's costume HOST. Now, my young guest, methinks you're allycholly; I pray you, why is it? JULIA. Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry. HOST. Come, we'll have you merry; I'll bring you where you shall hear music, and see the gentleman that you asked for. JULIA. But shall I hear him speak? HOST. Ay, that you shall. JULIA. That will be music. The Musicians play HOST. Hark, hark! JULIA. Is he among these? HOST. Ay; but, peace! Let's hear 'em. SONG: Who is Silvia? What is she, That all our swains commend her? Holy, fair, and wise is she; The heaven such grace did lend her, That she might admirèd be. Is she kind as she is fair? For beauty lives with kindness. Love doth to her eyes repair, To help him of his blindness; And, being helped, inhabits there. Then to Silvia let us sing That Silvia is excelling; She excels each mortal thing Upon the dull earth dwelling. To her let us garlands bring. HOST. How now? Are you sadder than you were before? How do you, man? The music likes you not. JULIA. You mistake; the musician likes me not. HOST. Why, my pretty youth? JULIA. He plays false, father. HOST. How? Out of tune on the strings? JULIA. Not so; but yet so false that he grieves my very heart-strings. HOST. You have a quick ear. JULIA. Ay, I would I were deaf; it makes me have a slow heart. HOST. I perceive you delight not in music. JULIA. Not a whit, when it jars so. HOST. Hark, what fine change is in the music! JULIA. Ay; that change is the spite. HOST. You would have them always play but one thing? JULIA. I would always have one play but one thing. But, host, doth this Sir Proteus, that we talk on, Often resort unto this gentlewoman? HOST. I tell you what Launce, his man, told me: he loved her out of all nick. JULIA. Where is Launce? HOST. Gone to seek his dog, which tomorrow, by his master's command, he must carry for a present to his lady. JULIA Peace! Stand aside; the company parts. PROTEUS. Sir Thurio, fear not you; I will so plead That you shall say my cunning drift excels. THURIO. Where meet we? PROTEUS. At Saint Gregory's Well. THURIO. Farewell. Exeunt Thurio and Musicians Enter Silvia at an upstairs window PROTEUS. Madam, good even to your ladyship. SILVIA. I thank you for your music, gentlemen. Who is that that spake? PROTEUS. One, lady, if you knew his pure heart's truth, You would quickly learn to know him by his voice. SILVIA. Sir Proteus, as I take it. PROTEUS. Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant. SILVIA. What's your will? PROTEUS. That I may compass yours. SILVIA. You have your wish; my will is even this, That presently you hie you home to bed. Thou subtle, perjured, false, disloyal man, Thinkest thou I am so shallow, so conceitless, To be seducèd by thy flattery That hast deceived so many with thy vows? Return, return, and make thy love amends. For me--by this pale queen of night I swear-- I am so far from granting thy request That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit; And by and by intend to chide myself Even for this time I spend in talking to thee. PROTEUS. I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady, But she is dead. JULIA. (aside) 'Twere false, if I should speak it; For I am sure she is not burièd. SILVIA. Say that she be; yet Valentine thy friend Survives, to whom, thyself art witness, I am betrothed; and art thou not ashamed To wrong him with thy importunacy? PROTEUS. I likewise hear that Valentine is dead. SILVIA. And so suppose am I; for in his grave Assure thyself my love is burièd. PROTEUS. Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth. SILVIA. Go to thy lady's grave and call hers thence; Or, at the least, in hers sepulchre thine. JULIA. (aside) He heard not that. PROTEUS. Madam, if your heart be so obdurate, Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love, The picture that is hanging in your chamber; To that I'll speak, to that I'll sigh and weep; For since the substance of your perfect self Is else devoted, I am but a shadow; And to your shadow will I make true love. JULIA. (aside) If 'twere a substance, you would sure deceive it And make it but a shadow, as I am. SILVIA. I am very loath to be your idol, sir; But, since your falsehood shall become you well To worship shadows and adore false shapes, Send to me in the morning and I'll send it; And so, good rest. PROTEUS. As wretches have o'ernight That wait for execution in the morn. Exeunt Proteus and Silvia JULIA. Host, will you go? HOST. By my halidom, I was fast asleep. JULIA. Pray you, where lies Sir Proteus? HOST. Marry, at my house. Trust me, I think 'tis almost day. JULIA. Not so; but it hath been the longest night That e'er I watched, and the most heaviest. Exeunt