<h2><SPAN name="chap06"></SPAN>THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA</h2>
<p>There lived in the city of Verona two young gentlemen, whose names were
Valentine and Proteus, between whom a firm and uninterrupted friendship
had long subsisted. They pursued their studies together, and their hours
of leisure were always passed in each other’s company, except when
Proteus visited a lady he was in love with. And these visits to his
mistress,, and this passion of Proteus for the fair Julia, were the only
topics on which these two friends disagreed; for Valentine, not being
himself a lover, was sometimes a little weary of bearing his friend
forever talking of his Julia, and then he would laugh at Proteus, and in
pleasant terms ridicule the passion of love, and declare that no such idle
fancies should ever enter his head, greatly preferring (as he said) the
free and happy life he led to the anxious hopes and fears of the lover
Proteus.</p>
<p>One morning Valentine came to Proteus to tell him that they must for a
time be separated, for that he was going to Milan. Proteus, unwilling to
part with his friend, used many arguments to prevail upon Valentine not to
leave him. But Valentine said:</p>
<p>“Cease to persuade me, my loving Proteus. I will not, like a
sluggard, wear out my youth in idleness at home. Home-keeping youths have
ever homely wits. If your affection were not chained to the sweet glances
of your honored Julia, I would entreat you to accompany me, to see the
wonders of the world abroad; but since you are a lover, love on still, and
may your love be prosperous!”</p>
<p>They parted with mutual expressions of unalterable friendship.</p>
<p>“Sweet Valentine, adieu!” said Proteus. “Think on me
when you see some rare object worthy of notice in your travels, and wish
me partaker of your happiness.”</p>
<p>Valentine began his journey that same day toward Milan; and when his
friend had left him, Proteus sat down to write a letter to Julia, which he
gave to her maid Lucetta to deliver to her mistress.</p>
<p>Julia loved Proteus as well as he did her, but she was a lady of a noble
spirit, and she thought it did not become her maiden dignity too easily to
be won; therefore she affected to be insensible of his passion and gave
him much uneasiness in the prosecution of his suit.</p>
<p>And when Lucetta, offered the letter to Julia she would not receive it,
and chid her maid for taking letters from Proteus, and ordered her to
leave the room. But she so much wished to see what was written in the
letter that she soon called in her maid again; and when Lucetta returned
she said, “What o’clock is it?”</p>
<p>Lucetta, who knew her mistress more desired to see the letter than to know
the time of day, without answering her question again offered the rejected
letter. Julia, angry that her maid should thus take the liberty of seeming
to know what she really wanted, tore the letter in pieces and threw it on
the floor,, ordering her maid once more out of the room. As Lucetta was
retiring, she stopped to pick up the fragments of the torn letter; but
Julia, who meant not so to part with them, said, in pretended anger,
“Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie; you would be fingering
them to anger me.”</p>
<p>Julia then began to piece together as well as she could the torn
fragments. She first made out these words, “Love-wounded Proteus”;
and lamenting over these and such like loving words, which she made out
though they were all torn asunder, or, she said WOUNDED (the expression
“Love-wounded Proteus” giving her that idea), she talked to
these kind words, telling them she would lodge them in her bosom as in a
bed, till their wounds were healed, and that she would kiss each several
piece to make amends.</p>
<p>In this manner she went on talking with a pretty, ladylike childishness,
till, finding herself unable to make out the whole, and vexed at her own
ingratitude in destroying such sweet and loving words, as she called them,
she wrote a much kinder letter to Proteus than she had ever done before.</p>
<p>Proteus was greatly delighted at receiving this favorable answer to his
letter. And while he was reading it he exclaimed, “Sweet love! sweet
lines! sweet life!”</p>
<p>In the midst of his raptures he was interrupted by his father. “How
now?” said the old gentleman. “What letter are you reading
there?”</p>
<p>“My lord,” replied Proteus, “it is a letter from my
friend Valentine, at Milan.”</p>
<p>“Lend me the letter,” said his father. “Let me see what
news.”</p>
<p>“There is no news, my lord,” said Proteus, greatly alarmed,
“but that he writes how well beloved he is of the Duke of Milan, who
daily graces him with favors, and how he wishes me with him, the partner
of his fortune.”</p>
<p>“And how stand you affected to his wish?” asked the father.</p>
<p>“As one relying on your lordship’s will and not depending on
his friendly wish,” said Proteus.</p>
<p>Now it had happened that Proteus’s father had just been talking with
a friend on this very subject. His friend had said he wondered his
lordship suffered his son to spend his youth at home while most men were
sending their sons to seek preferment abroad.</p>
<p>“Some,” said he, “to the wars, to try their fortunes
there, and some to discover islands far away, and some to study in foreign
universities. And there is his companion Valentine; he is gone to the Duke
of Milan’s court. Your son is fit for any of these things, and it
will be a great disadvantage to him in his riper age not to have traveled
in his youth.”</p>
<p>Proteus’s father thought the advice of his friend was very good, and
upon Proteus telling him that Valentine “wished him with him, the
partner of his fortune,” he at once determined to send his son to
Milan; and without giving Proteus any reason for this sudden resolution,
it being the usual habit of this positive old gentleman to command his
son, not reason with him, he said:</p>
<p>“My will is the same as Valentine’s wish.” And seeing
his son look astonished, he added: “Look not amazed, that I so
suddenly resolve you shall spend some time in the Duke of Milan’s
court; for what I will I will, and there is an end. Tomorrow be in
readiness to go. Make no excuses, for I am peremptory.”</p>
<p>Proteus knew it was of no use to make objections to his father, who never
suffered him to dispute his will; and he blamed himself for telling his
father an untruth about Julia’s letter, which had brought upon him
the sad necessity of leaving her.</p>
<p>Now that Julia found she was going to lose Proteus for so long a time she
no longer pretended indifference; and they bade each other a mournful
farewell, with many vows of love and constancy. Proteus and Julia
exchanged rings, which they both promised to keep forever in remembrance
of each other; and thus, taking a sorrowful leave, Proteus set out on his
journey to Milan, the abode of his friend Valentine.</p>
<p>Valentine was in reality, what Proteus had feigned to his father, in high
favor with the Duke of Milan; and another event had happened to him of
which Proteus did not even dream, for Valentine had given up the freedom
of which he used so much to boast, and was become as passionate a lover as
Proteus.</p>
<p>She who had wrought this wondrous change in Valentine was the Lady Silvia,
daughter of the Duke of Milan, and she also loved him; but they concealed
their love from the duke, because, although he showed much kindness for
Valentine and invited him every day to his palace, yet he designed to
marry his daughter to a young courtier whose name was Thurio. Silvia
despised this Thurio, for he had none of the fine sense and excellent
qualities of Valentine.</p>
<p>These two rivals, Thurio and Valentine, were one day on a visit to Silvia,
and Valentine was entertaining Silvia with turning everything Thurio said
into ridicule, when the duke himself entered the room and told Valentine
the welcome news of his friend Proteus’s arrival.</p>
<p>Valentine said, “If I had wished a thing, it would have been to have
seen him here!” And then he highly praised Proteus to the duke,
saying, “My lord, though I have been a truant of my time, yet hath
my friend made use and fair advantage of his days, and is complete in
person and in mind, in all good grace to grace a gentleman.”</p>
<p>“Welcome him, then, according to his worth,” said the duke.
“Silvia, I speak to you, and you, Sir Thurio; for Valentine, I need
not bid him do so.”</p>
<p>They were here interrupted by the entrance of Proteus, and Valentine
introduced him to Silvia, saying, “Sweet lady, entertain him to be
my fellow-servant to your ladyship.”</p>
<p>When Valentine and Proteus had ended their visit, and were alone together,
Valentine said:</p>
<p>“Now tell me how all does from whence you came? How does your lady,
and how thrives your love?”</p>
<p>Proteus replied: “My tales of love used to weary you. I know you joy
not in a love discourse.”</p>
<p>“Aye, Proteus,” returned Valentine, “but that life is
altered now. I have done penance for condemning love. For in revenge of my
contempt of love, love has chased sleep from my enthralled eyes. O gentle
Proteus, Love is a mighty lord, and hath so humbled me that I confess
there is no woe like his correction nor no such joy on earth as in his
service. I now like no discourse except it be of love. Now I can break my
fast, dine, sup, and sleep upon the very name of love.”</p>
<p>This acknowledgment of the change which love had made in, the disposition
of Valentine was a great triumph to his friend Proteus. But “friend”
Proteus must be called no longer, for the same all-powerful deity Love, of
whom they were speaking (yea, even while they were talking of the change
he had made in Valentine), was working in the heart of Proteus; and he,
who had till this time been a pattern of true love and perfect friendship,
was now, in one short interview with Silvia, become a false friend and a
faithless lover; for at the first sight of Silvia all his love for Julia
vanished away like a dream, nor did his long friendship for Valentine
deter him from endeavoring to supplant him in her affections; and
although, as it will always be, when people of dispositions naturally good
become unjust, be bad many scruples before he determined to forsake Julia
and become the rival of Valentine, yet be at length overcame his sense of
duty and yielded himself up, almost without remorse, to his new unhappy
passion.</p>
<p>Valentine imparted to him in confidence the whole history of his love, and
how carefully they had concealed it from the duke her father, and told him
that, despairing of ever being able to obtain his consent, he had
prevailed upon Silvia to leave her father’s palace that night and go
with him to Mantua; then he showed Proteus a ladder of ropes by help of
which he meant to assist Silvia to get out of one of the windows of the
palace after it was dark.</p>
<p>Upon hearing this faithful recital of his friend’s dearest secrets,
it is hardly possible to be believed, but so it was that Proteus resolved
to go to the duke and disclose the whole to him.</p>
<p>This false friend began his tale with many artful speeches to the duke,
such as that by the laws of friendship he ought to conceal what he was
going to reveal, but that the gracious favor the duke had shown him, and
the duty he owed his grace, urged him to tell that which else no worldly
good should draw from him. He then told all he had heard from Valentine,
not omitting the ladder of ropes and the manner in which Valentine meant
to conceal them under a long cloak.</p>
<p>The duke thought Proteus quite a miracle of integrity, in that he
preferred telling his friend’s intention rather than he would
conceal an unjust action; highly commended him, and promised him not to
let Valentine know from whom he had learned this intelligence, but by some
artifice to make Valentine betray the secret himself. For this purpose the
duke awaited the coming of Valentine in the evening, whom he soon saw
hurrying toward the palace, and he perceived somewhat was wrapped within
his cloak, which he concluded was the rope ladder.</p>
<p>The duke, upon this, stopped him, saying, “Whither away so fast,
Valentine?”</p>
<p>“May it please your grace,” said Valentine, “there is a
messenger that stays to bear my letters to my friends, and I am going to
deliver them.”</p>
<p>Now this falsehood of Valentine’s had no better success in the event
than the untruth Proteus told his father.</p>
<p>“Be they of much import?” said the duke.</p>
<p>“No more, my lord,” said Valentine, “than to tell my
father I am well and happy at your grace’s court.”</p>
<p>“Nay then,” said the duke, “no matter; stay with me
awhile. I wish your counsel about some affairs that concern me nearly.”</p>
<p>He then told Valentine an artful story, as a prelude to draw his secret
from him, saying that Valentine knew he wished to match his daughter with
Thurio, but that she was stubborn and disobedient to his commands.</p>
<p>“Neither regarding,” said he, “that she is my child nor
fearing me as if I were her father. And I may say to thee this pride of
hers has drawn my love from her. I had thought my age should have been
cherished by her childlike duty. I now am resolved to take a wife, and
turn her out to whosoever will take her in. Let her beauty be her wedding
dower, for me and my possessions she esteems not.”</p>
<p>Valentine, wondering where all this would end, made answer, “And
what would your grace have me to do in all this?”</p>
<p>“Why,” said the duke, “the lady I would wish to marry is
nice and coy and does not much esteem my aged eloquence. Besides, the
fashion of courtship is much changed since I was young. Now I would
willingly have you to be my tutor to instruct me how I am to woo.”</p>
<p>Valentine gave him a general idea of the modes of courtship then practised
by young men when they wished to win a fair lady’s love, such as
presents, frequent visits, and the like.</p>
<p>The duke replied to this that the lady did refuse a present which he sent
her, and that she was so strictly kept by her father that no man might
have access to her by day.</p>
<p>“Why, then,” said Valentine, “you must visit her by
night.”</p>
<p>“But at night,” said the artful duke, who was now coming to
the drift of his discourse, “her doors are fast locked.”</p>
<p>Valentine then unfortunately proposed that the duke should get into the
lady’s chamber at night by means of a ladder of ropes,, saying he
would procure him one fitting for that purpose; and in conclusion advised
him to conceal this ladder of ropes under such a cloak as that which he
now wore.</p>
<p>“Lend me your cloak,” said the duke, who had feigned this long
story on purpose to have a pretense to get off the cloak; so upon saying
these words he caught hold of Valentine’s cloak and, throwing it
back, he discovered not only the ladder of ropes but also a letter of
Silvia’s, which he instantly opened and read; and this letter
contained a full account of their intended elopement. The duke, after
upbraiding Valentine for his ingratitude in thus returning the favor he
had shown him, by endeavoring to steal away his daughter, banished him
from the court and city of Milan forever, and Valentine was forced to
depart that night without even seeing Silvia.</p>
<p>While Proteus at Milan was thus injuring Valentine, Julia at Verona was
regretting the absence of Proteus; and her regard for him at last so far
overcame her sense of propriety that she resolved to leave Verona and seek
her lover at Milan; and to secure herself from danger on the road she
dressed her maiden Lucetta and herself in men’s clothes,-. and they
set out in this disguise, and arrived at Milan soon after Valentine was
banished from that, city through the treachery of Proteus.</p>
<p>Julia entered Milan about noon, and she took up her abode at an inn; and,
her thoughts being all on her dear Proteus, she entered into conversation
with the innkeeper—or host, as he was called—thinking by that
means to learn some news of Proteus.</p>
<p>The host was greatly pleased that this handsome young gentleman (as he
took her to be), who from his appearance be concluded was of high rank,
spoke so familiarly to him, and, being a good-natured man, he was sorry to
see him look so melancholy; and to amuse his young guest he offered to
take him to hear some fine music, with which, he said, a gentleman that
evening was going to serenade his mistress.</p>
<p>The reason Julia looked so very melancholy was, that she did not well know
what Proteus would think of the imprudent step she had taken, for she knew
he had loved her for her noble maiden pride and dignity of character, and
she feared she should lower herself in his esteem; and this it was that
made her wear a sad and thoughtful countenance.</p>
<p>She gladly accepted the offer of the host to go with him and hear the
music; for she secretly hoped she might meet Proteus by the way.</p>
<p>But when she came to the palace whither the host conducted a very
different effect was produced to what the kind host intended; for there,
to her heart’s sorrow, she beheld her lover, the inconstant Proteus,
serenading the Lady Silvia with music, and addressing discourse of love
and admiration to her. And Julia overheard Silvia from a window talk with
Proteus, and reproach him for forsaking his own true lady, and for his
ingratitude his friend Valentine; and then Silvia left the window, not
choosing to listen to his music and his fine speeches; for she was a
faithful lady to her banished Valentine, and abhorred the ungenerous
conduct of his false friend, Proteus.</p>
<p>Though Julia was in despair at what she had just witnessed, yet did she
still love the truant Proteus; and hearing that he had lately parted with
a servant, she contrived, with the assistance of her host, the friendly
innkeeper, to hire herself to Proteus as a page; and Proteus knew not she
was Julia, and he sent her with letters and presents to her rival, Silvia,
and he even sent by her the very ring she gave him as a parting gift at
Verona.</p>
<p>When she went to that lady with the ring she was most glad to find that
Silvia utterly rejected the suit of Proteus; and Julia—or the page
Sebastian, as she was called, entered into conversation with Silvia about
Proteus’s first love, the forsaken Lady Julia. She putting in (as
one may say) a good word for herself, said she knew Julia; as well she
might, being herself the Julia of whom she spoke; telling how fondly Julia
loved her master, Proteus, and how his unkind neglect would grieve her.
And then she with a pretty equivocation went on: “Julia is about my
height, and of my complexion, the color of her eyes and hair the same as
mine.” And indeed Julia looked a most beautiful youth in her boy’s
attire.</p>
<p>Silvia was moved to pity this lovely lady who was so sadly forsaken by the
man she loved; and when Julia offered the ring which Proteus had sent,
refused it, saying:</p>
<p>“The more shame for him that he sends me that ring. I will not take
it, for I have often heard him say his Julia gave it to him. I love thee,
gentle youth, for pitying her, poor lady! Here is a purse; I give it you
for Julia’s sake.”</p>
<p>These comfortable words coming from her kind rival’s tongue cheered
the drooping heart of the disguised lady.</p>
<p>But to return to the banished Valentine, who scarce knew which way to bend
his course, being unwilling to return home to his father a disgraced and
banished man. As he was wandering over a lonely forest, not far distant
from Milan, where he had left his heart’s dear treasure, the Lady
Silvia, he was set upon by robbers, who demanded his money.</p>
<p>Valentine told them that he was a man crossed by adversity, that be was
going into banishment, and that he had no money, the clothes he had on
being all his riches.</p>
<p>The robbers, hearing that he was a distressed man, and being struck with
his noble air and manly behavior, told him if he would live with them and
be their chief, or captain, they would put themselves under his command;
but that if he refused to accept their offer they would kill him.</p>
<p>Valentine, who cared little what became of himself, said he would consent
to live with them and be their captain, provided they did no outrage on
women or poor passengers.</p>
<p>Thus the noble Valentine became, like Robin Hood, of whom we read in
ballads, a captain of robbers and outlawed banditti; and in this situation
he was found by Silvia, and in this manner it came to pass.</p>
<p>Silvia, to avoid a marriage with Thurio, whom her father insisted upon her
no longer refusing, came at last to the resolution of following Valentine
to Mantua, at which place she had heard her lover had taken refuge; but in
this account she was misinformed, for he still lived in the forest among
the robbers, hearing the name of their captain, but taking no part in
their depredations, and using the authority which they had imposed upon
him in no other way than to compel them to show compassion to the
travelers they robbed.</p>
<p>Silvia contrived to effect her escape from her father’s palace in
company with a worthy old gentleman whose name was Eglamour, whom she took
along with her for protection on the road. She had to pass through the
forest where Valentine and the banditti dwelt; and one of these robbers
seized on Silvia, and would also have taken Eglamour, but he escaped.</p>
<p>The robber who had taken Silvia, seeing the terror she was in, bade her
not be alarmed, for that he was only going to carry her to a cave where
his captain lived, and that she need not be afraid, for their captain had
an honorable mind and always showed humanity to women. Silvia found little
comfort in hearing she was going to be carried as a prisoner before the
captain of a lawless banditti.</p>
<p>“O Valentine,” she cried, “this I endure for thee!”</p>
<p>But as the robber was conveying her to the cave of his captain he was
stopped by Proteus, who, still attended by Julia in the disguise of a
page, having heard of the flight of Silvia, had traced her steps to this
forest. Proteus now rescued her from the hands the robber; but scarce had
she time to thank him for the service he had done her before be began to
distress her afresh with his love suit; and while he was rudely pressing
her to consent to marry him, and his page (the forlorn Julia) was standing
beside him in great anxiety of mind, fearing lest the great service which
Proteus had just done to Silvia should win her to show him some favor,
they were all strangely surprised with the sudden appearance of Valentine,
who, having heard his robbers had taken a lady prisoner, came to console
and relieve her.</p>
<p>Proteus was courting Silvia, and he was so much ashamed of being caught by
his friend that he was all at once seized with penitence and remorse; and
he expressed such a lively sorrow for the injuries he had done to
Valentine that Valentine, whose nature was noble and generous, even to a
romantic degree, not only forgave and restored him to his former place in
his friendship, but in a sudden flight of heroism he said:</p>
<p>“I freely do forgive you; and all the interest I have in Silvia I
give it up to you.”</p>
<p>Julia, who was standing beside her master as a page, hearing this strange
offer, and fearing Proteus would not be able with this new-found virtue to
refuse Silvia, fainted; and they were all employed in recovering her, else
would Silvia have been offended at being thus made over to Proteus, though
she could scarcely think that Valentine would long persevere in this
overstrained and too generous act of friendship. When Julia recovered from
the fainting fit, she said:</p>
<p>“I had forgot, my master ordered me to deliver this ring to Silvia.”</p>
<p>Proteus, looking upon the ring, saw that it was the one he gave to Julia
in return for that which he received from her and which he had sent by the
supposed page to Silvia.</p>
<p>“How is this?” said he. “This is Julia’s ring. How
came you by it, boy?”</p>
<p>Julia answered, “Julia herself did give it me, and Julia herself
hath brought it hither.”</p>
<p>Proteus, now looking earnestly upon her, plainly perceived that the page
Sebastian was no other than the Lady Julia herself; and the proof she had
given of her constancy and true love so wrought in him that his love for
her returned into his heart, and he took again his own dear lady and
joyfully resigned all pretensions to the Lady Silvia to Valentine, who had
so well deserved her.</p>
<p>Proteus and Valentine were expressing their happiness in their
reconciliation, and in the love of their faithful ladies, when they were
surprised with the sight of the Duke of Milan and Thurio, who came there
in pursuit of Silvia.</p>
<p>Thurio first approached, and attempted to seize Silvia, saying, “Silvia
is mine.”</p>
<p>Upon this Valentine said to him in a very spirited manner: “Thurio,
keep back. If once again you say that Silvia is yours, you shall embrace
your death. Here she stands, take but possession of her with a touch! I
dare you but to breathe upon my love.”</p>
<p>Hearing this threat, Thurio, who was a great coward, drew back, and said
he cared not for her and that none but a fool would fight for a girl who
loved him not.</p>
<p>The duke, who was a very brave man himself, said now, in great anger,
“The more base and degenerate in you to take such means for her as
you have done and leave her on such slight conditions.”</p>
<p>Then turning to Valentine he said: “I do applaud your spirit,
Valentine, and think you worthy of an empress’s love. You shall have
Silvia, for you have well deserved her.”</p>
<p>Valentine then with great humility kissed the duke’s hand and
accepted the noble present which he had made him of his daughter with
becoming thankfulness, taking occasion of this joyful minute to entreat
the good-humored duke to pardon the thieves with whom he had associated in
the forest, assuring him that when reformed and restored to society there
would be found among them many good, and fit for great employment; for the
most of them had been banished, like Valentine, for state offenses, rather
than for any black crimes they had been guilty of. To this the’
ready duke consented. And now nothing remained but that Proteus, the false
friend, was ordained, by way of penance for his love-prompted faults, to
be present at the recital of the whole story of his loves and falsehoods
before the duke. And the shame of the recital to his awakened conscience
was judged sufficient punishment; which being done, the lovers, all four,
returned back to Milan, and their nuptials were solemnized in the presence
of the duke, with high triumphs and feasting.</p>
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