TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. ACT I. LOVE COMMENDED AND CENSURED. YET writers say, As in the sweetest bud, And writers say, As the most forward bud LOVE FROWARD AND DISSEMBLING. Maids, in modesty, say No, to that Which they would have the profferer construe, Aye. Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love, That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse, And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod! ADVANTAGE OF TRAVELLING. He cannot be a perfect man, Not being try'd and tutor❜d in the world: LOVE COMPARED TO AN APRIL DAY. O, how this spring of love resembleth ACT II. HUMOROUS DESCRIPTION OF A MAN IN LOVE. Marry, by these special marks: First, you have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreathe your arms like a malecontent; to relish a love-song, like a robin redbreast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a school-boy, that had lost his A, B, C; to weep, like a young wench that had buried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes diet;* to watch, like one that fears robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas.† You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you looked sadly, it was for the want of money; and now you are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I look on you, I can hardly think you my master. AN ACCOMPLISHED YOUNG GENTLEMAN. His years but young, but his experience old; CONTEMPT OF LOVE PUNISHED. I have done penance for contemning love; Whose high imperious thoughts have punished me With bitter fasts, with penitential groans, With nightly tears, and daily heart-sore sighs; For, in revenge of my contempt of love, Love hath chas'd sleep from my enthralled eyes, And made them watchers of mine own heart's sor◄ row. O, gentle Proteus, love's a mighty lord; And hath so humbled me, as I confess, Nor, to his service, no such joy on earth! Now, no discourse, except it be of love; Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, and sleep, Upon the very naked name of love. LOVE COMPARED TO A WAXEN IMAGE. For now my love is thaw'd; Which, like a waxen image 'gainst a fire, * Under LOVE INCREASED BY ATTEMPTS TO SUPPRESS IT. Didst thou but know the inly touch of love, Thou would'st as soon go kindle fire with snow, As seek to quench the fire of love with words. Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire; But qualify the fire's extreme rage, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. The current that with gentle murmur glides, He makes sweet music with the enamel'd stones, He overtaketh in his pilgrimage; And so by many winding nooks he strays, A FAIFHFUL AND CONSTANT LOVER. ACT II. PRESENTS PREVAIL WITH WOMEN. Win her with gifts, if she respect not words; Dumb jewels often, in their silent kind, More than quick words do move a woman's mind. A LOVER'S BANISHMENT. And why not death, rather than living torment? To die, is to be banish'd from myself: And Silvia is myself: banished from her, (V BEAUTY PETITIONING IN VAIN. Ay, ay; and she hath offer'd to the doom, Which, unreserv'd, stands in effectual force,) A sea of melting pearl, which some call tears: Those at her father's churlish feet she tender'd; With them, upon her knees, her humble self; Wringing her hands, whose whiteness so became them, As if but now they waxed pale for wo: But neither bended knees, pure hands held up, Sad sighs, deep groans, nor silver-shedding tears Could penetrate her uncompassionate sire. HOPE. Hope is a lover's staff; walk hence with that. And manage it against despairing thoughts. LOVE COMPARED TO A FIGURE ON ICE. This weak impress of love is as a figure Trenched in ice; which with an hour's heat Dissolves to water, and doth lose his form. THREE THINGS IN MAN DISLIKED BY FEMALES. The best way is to slander Valentine THE POWER OF POETRY WITH FEMALES. Say, that upon the altar of her beauty * Cut. Write till your ink be dry. and with your tears For Orpheus' lute was strung with poet's sinews, ACT IV. THE POWER OF ACTION. At that time I made her weep a-good,* ACT V. A LOVER IN SOLITUDE. How use doth breed a habit in a man! And to the nightingale's complaining notes, LOVE UNRETURNED. What dangerous action, stood it next to death, Would I not undergo for one calm look? |