The Two Gentlemen of Verona by William Shakespeare (ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt) 📕
Description
Two close friends, Proteus and Valentine, are saying their goodbyes in the streets of Verona. Valentine plans to travel to Milan and discover the world, but Proteus wants to stay with Julia, a woman he loves. While in Milan, Valintine falls in love with the duke’s daughter, Sylvia, and plans to elope with her. Antonio, Proteus’ father, later orders his son to join Valentine in Milan. Before leaving, Proteus exchanges rings and vows of undying love with Julia. When Proteus enters the aristocratic courts of Milan, he instantly falls in love with Sylia and forgets all about Julia. The love triangle between Sylvia, Proteus, and Valentine will test the loyalty of friendship.
This Standard Ebooks production is based on William George Clark and William Aldis Wright’s 1887 Victoria edition, which is taken from the Globe edition.
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- Author: William Shakespeare
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No, madam; so it stead you, I will write,
Please you command, a thousand times as much;
And yet—
A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel;
And yet I will not name it; and yet I care not;
And yet take this again; and yet I thank you,
Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more.
Yes, yes: the lines are very quaintly writ;
But since unwillingly, take them again.
Nay, take them.
Ay, ay: you writ them, sir, at my request;
But I will none of them; they are for you;
I would have had them writ more movingly.
And when it’s writ, for my sake read it over,
And if it please you, so; if not, why, so.
Why, if it please you, take it for your labour:
And so, good morrow, servant. Exit.
O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible,
As a nose on a man’s face, or a weathercock on a steeple!
My master sues to her, and she hath taught her suitor,
He being her pupil, to become her tutor.
O excellent device! was there ever heard a better,
That my master, being scribe, to himself should write the letter?
I’ll warrant you, ’tis as well:
For often have you writ to her, and she, in modesty,
Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply;
Or fearing else some messenger that might her mind discover,
Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover.
All this I speak in print, for in print I found it.
Why muse you, sir? ’tis dinner-time.
Verona. Julia’s house.
Enter Proteus and Julia. Proteus Have patience, gentle Julia. Julia I must, where is no remedy. Proteus When possibly I can, I will return. JuliaIf you turn not, you will return the sooner.
Keep this remembrance for thy Julia’s sake. Giving a ring.
Here is my hand for my true constancy;
And when that hour o’erslips me in the day
Wherein I sigh not, Julia, for thy sake,
The next ensuing hour some foul mischance
Torment me for my love’s forgetfulness!
My father stays my coming; answer not;
The tide is now: nay, not thy tide of tears;
That tide will stay me longer than I should.
Julia, farewell! Exit Julia. What, gone without a word?
Ay, so true love should do: it cannot speak;
For truth hath better deeds than words to grace it.
Go; I come, I come.
Alas! this parting strikes poor lovers dumb. Exeunt.
The same. A street.
Enter Launce, leading a dog. Launce Nay, ’twill be this hour ere I have done weeping; all the kind of the Launces have this very fault. I have received my proportion, like the prodigious son, and am going with Sir Proteus to the Imperial’s court. I think Crab my dog be the sourest-natured dog that lives: my mother weeping, my father wailing, my sister crying, our maid howling, our cat wringing her hands, and all our house in a great perplexity, yet did not this cruel-hearted cur shed one tear: he is a stone, a very pebble stone, and has no more pity in him than a dog: a Jew would have wept to have seen our parting; why, my grandam, having no eyes, look you, wept herself blind at my parting. Nay, I’ll show you the manner of it. This shoe is my father: no, this left shoe is my father: no, no, this left shoe is my mother: nay, that cannot be so neither: yes, it is so, it is so, it hath the worser sole. This shoe, with the hole in it, is my mother, and this my father; a vengeance on’t! there ’tis: now, sit, this staff is my sister, for, look you, she is as white as a lily and as small as a wand: this hat is Nan, our maid: I am the dog: no, the dog is himself, and I am the dog—Oh! the dog is me, and I am myself; ay, so, so. Now come I to my father; Father, your blessing: now should not the shoe speak a word for weeping: now should I kiss my father; well, he weeps on. Now come I to my mother: O, that she could speak now like a wood woman! Well, I kiss her; why, there ’tis; here’s my mother’s breath up and down. Now come I to my sister; mark the moan she makes. Now the dog all this while sheds not a tear nor speaks a word; but see how I lay the dust with my tears. Enter Panthino. Panthino Launce, away, away, aboard! thy master is shipped and
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