Dramatis Perfonæ.

DUKE of Milan, Father to Silvia.

Valentine,

Protheus,

} the two Gentlemen.

Anthonio, Father to Protheus.

Thurio, a foolish Rival to Valentine.
Eglamore, Agent for Silvia in her Escape.
Hoft, where Julia lodges in Milan.
Out-laws.

Speed, a clownish Servant to Valentine.

Launce, the like to Protheus.

Panthion, Servant to Anthonio.

Julia, a Lady of Verona, beloved of Protheus.

Silvia, the Duke of Milan's Daughter, beloved of Va

lentine.

Lucetta, Waiting-woman to Julia.

Servants, Muficians.

The SCENE, fometimes in Verona; fometimes in Milan; and on the Frontiers of Mantua.

THE

'THE

TWO GENTLEMEN

O F

VERONA.

A C T I.

SCENE I.

An open Place in Verona.

Enter Valentine and Protheus,

VALENTINE.

EASE to perfuade, my loving Protheus;
Home-keeping youth have ever homely

wits;

Wer't not, affection chains thy tender days To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love, I rather would intreat thy company,

To see the wonders of the world abroad ;
Than (living dully fluggardiz'd at home)
Wear out thy youth with fhapelefs idleness.

1 It is obfervable (I know not for what caufe) that the ftile of this comedy is lefs figurative, and more natural and unaffected than the greater part of this Author's, tho' fuppofed to be one of the firit he wrote.

Mr. Pope.

2 -hapeless idleness.] The expreffion is fine, as implying that idleness prevents the giving any form or character to the manners.

But

03

But fince thou lov'ft, love ftill, and thrive therein
Ev'n as I would, when I to love begin.

Pro. Wilt thou be gone? fweet Valentine, adieu
Think on thy Protheus, when thou, haply, feest
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:
Wish me partaker in thy happiness,

When thou doft meet good hap; and in thy danger, If ever danger do environ thee,

Commend thy Grievance to my holy prayer;

For I will be thy bead's-man, Valentine.
Val. And on a love-book

pray

for my

fuccefs.

Pro. Upon fome book I love, I'll pray for thee. Val. That's on fome fhallow ftory of deep love, How young Leander crofs'd the Hellefpont.

Pro. That's a deep ftory of a deeper love; For he was more than over fhoes in love.

Val. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love,
And yet you never fwom the Hellefpont.

Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots.
Val. No, I will not; for it boots thee not.

Pro. What?

Val. To be in love, where fcorn is bought with

groans;

Coy looks, with heart-fore fighs; one fading moment's

mirth,

With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights.
If haply won, perhaps, an haplefs gain:
If loft, why then a grievous labour won;
However, but a folly bought with wit ;
Or elfe a wit by folly vanquished.

Pro. So, by your circumftance, you call me fool.
Val. So, by your circumftance, I fear, you'll prove.
Pro. 'Tis love you cavil at; I am not love.
Val. Love is your mafter; for he mafters you.
And he that is fo yoaked by a fool,

Methinks, fhould not be chronicled for wife.
Pro. Yet writers fay, as in the sweetest bud

1

• The

• The eating canker dwells; fo eating love Inhabits in the fineft wits of all.

Val. And writers fay, as the moft forward bud
Is eaten by the canker, ere it blow;

Even fo by love the young and tender wit
Is turn'd to folly, blafting in the bud;
Lofing his verdure even in the prime,
And all the fair effects of future hopes.
But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee,
That art a votary to fond defire?

Once more, adieu: my father at the road
Expects my coming, there to fee me fhipp'd.

Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.
Val. Sweet Protheus, no: now let us take our leave.
At Milan, let me hear from thee by letters
Of thy fuccefs in love; and what news elfe
Betideth here in abfence of thy friend:
And I likewife will vifit thee with mine.

Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan! Val. As much to you at home; and fo, farewel! [Exit

Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love; He leaves his friends to dignify them more; I leave myself, my friends, and all for love. Thou, Julia, thou haft metamorphos'd ine; Made me neglect my ftudies, lofe my time, War with good counfel, fet the world at nought; Made wit with mufing weak, heart fick with thought

SCE NE II.

Enter Speed.

Speed. Sir Protheus, fave you; faw you my mafter? Pro. But now he parted hence, t' imbark for Milan.

Speed.

3 This whole Scene, like many others in these plays (fome of which I believe were written by Shakespear, and others interpo

lated