Dramatis Perfonæ.

DUKE of Milan, Father to Sylvia.

Valentine,
Protheus,

}

the two Gentlemen.

Anthonio, Father to Protheus.

Thurio, a foolish Rival to Valentine.
Eglamore, Agent for Sylvia in her Efcape.
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 Valentine.

Lucetta, Waiting-woman to Julia.

Servants, Muficians.

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

Of this play we have no edition more early than that of 1623 in Folio.

THE

TWO GENTLEMEN

O F

VERONA.1

ACT I. SCENE I.

C

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 fweet glances of thy honour'd love,

would intreat thy company,

he wonders of the world abroad; Than (living dully fluggardiz'd at home)

Mr. Upton peremptorily determines, that if any proof can be drawn from manner and ftyle, this play must be fent packing and feek for its parent elsewhere. How other wife, fays he, do painters diftinguish copies from originals, and have not authours their peculiar fyle and manner from which a true critick can form as unerring a judgment as a Painter? I am afraid this illuftration of a critick's fcience will not prove what is defired. A Painter knows a copy from an original by rules fomewhat refembling thefe by which criticks know a tranflation, which if it be literal, and literal it must be to refemble the copy of a picture, will be eafily diftinguished. Copies are known from originals even when the painter copies his own picture; fo if an authour fhould literally tranflate his work he would lofe the manner of an original.

Mr. Upton confounds the copy of a picture with the imitation of a painter's manner. Copies are cafly known, but good imitations are not detected with equal certainty, and are, by the best judges, often mistaken. Nor is it true that the writer has always peculiarities equally diftinguifhable with thofe of the painter. The peculiar manner of each arifes from the defire, natural to every performer, of facilitating his fubfequent works by recurrence to his former ideas; this recurrence produces that repeti

tion which is called habit. The painter, whofe work is partly intelle&tual and partly manual, has habits of the mind, the eye and the hand, the writer has only habits of the mind. Yet, fome painters have differed as much from themselves as from any other; and I have been told, that there is little refemblance between the first works of Raphael and the laft. The fame variation may he expected in writers; and if it be true, as it feems, that they are less subject to habit, the difference between their works may be yet greater.

But by the internal marks of a compofition we may discover the authour with probability, though feldom with certainty. When I read this play I cannot but think that I discover both in the ferious and ludicrous fcenes, the language and fentiments of Shakespear. It is not indeed one of his most powerful effufions, it has neither many diverfitics of character, nor ftriking delineations of life, but it abounds in youàs beyond most of his plays, and few have more lines or paffages which, fingly confidered, are eminently beautiful. I am yet inclined to believe that it was not very fuccefsful, and fufpect that it has efcaped corruption, only because being feldom played it was lefs expofed to the hazards of tranfcription.

Wear

Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness, 2
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 inviron 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 shoes 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. 3
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 hapless gain:
If loft, why then a grievous labour won;
However, but a folly bought with wit;

Or

make a laughing Stock of me ; don't play upon me. The French have a Phrafe, Bailler foin en Corne; which Cotgrave thus interprets, To give one the Boats; to fell him a Bargain. THEOBALD.

4 However, but a folly.] This love will end in a foolish action,

Or elle 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 masters you.
And he that is fo yoaked by a fool,

Methinks, fhould not be chronicled for wife.
Pro. Yet writers fay, as in the fweeteft bud
The eating canker dwells; fo eating love
Inhabits in the fineft wits of all.

Val. And writers fay, as the most forward bud
Is eaten by the canker, ere it blow;
Even fo by love the young and tender wit
Is turn'd to folly, blailing in the bud ;
Lofing his verdure even in the prime,
And all the fair effects of future hopes.
But wherefore wafte I time to counfel 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 hast metamorphos'd me; Made ne neglect my ftudies, lofe my time,

to produce which you are long to ipend your wit, or it will end in the lois of your wit, which

will be over-powered by the folly of love.

War