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Two Gentlemen of Verona
·III i 254 ·
Prose
Launce I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to think my master is a kind of a knave: but that's all one, if he be but one knave. He lives not now that knows me to be in love; yet I am in love; but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me; nor who 'tis I love; and yet 'tis a woman; but what woman, I will not tell myself; and yet 'tis a milkmaid; yet 'tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips; yet 'tis a maid, for she is her master's maid, and serves for wages. She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel; which is much in a bare Christian. [Pulling out a paper] Here is the cate-log of her condition. 'Imprimis: She can fetch and carry.' Why, a horse can do no more: nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore is she better than a jade. 'Item: She can milk;' look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands. |
Original: I am but a fool, look you; and yet I have the wit to think my master is a kind of a knave: but that’s all one, if he be but one knave.
Modern: I’m just a fool, you see; but even so, I’m smart enough to think my master is kind of a scoundrel—but that’s okay, as long as he’s only one kind of scoundrel.
Original: He lives not now that knows me to be in love; yet I am in love; but a team of horse shall not pluck that from me; nor who ‘tis I love; and yet ‘tis a woman; but what woman, I will not tell myself; and yet ‘tis a milkmaid; yet ‘tis not a maid, for she hath had gossips; yet ‘tis a maid, for she is her master’s maid, and serves for wages.
Modern: Nobody alive knows that I’m in love; but I am in love; and a whole team of horses couldn’t drag this secret out of me—or who it is I love; though I will say it’s a woman; but which woman, I won’t even tell myself; though I’ll admit it’s a milkmaid; well, she’s not a virgin, because she’s had children; but she is a maid in the sense that she’s her master’s servant and works for wages.
Original: She hath more qualities than a water-spaniel; which is much in a bare Christian.
Modern: She has more talents than a water dog; which is quite a lot for an ordinary person.
Original: Here is the cate-log of her condition.
Modern: Here is the written list of her qualities.
Original: ‘Imprimis: She can fetch and carry.’ Why, a horse can do no more: nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry; therefore is she better than a jade.
Modern: ‘First: She can fetch and carry.’ Well, a horse can’t do more than that—actually, a horse can only carry, not fetch; so she’s better than a worn-out horse.
Original: ‘Item: She can milk;’ look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands.
Modern: ‘Next item: She can milk a cow;’ you see, that’s a lovely quality in a servant girl with clean hands.
In Act III, Scene 1 of “The Two Gentlemen of Verona,” Proteus arrives at the Duke’s court in Milan, having been sent there by his father Antonio. The Duke welcomes Proteus and speaks highly of his friend Valentine, who has been serving at court. However, Valentine is troubled because he is secretly in love with the Duke’s daughter, Silvia, and plans to help her escape from her father, who intends to marry her to the foolish Thurio. Valentine confides his escape plan to Proteus, showing him the rope ladder he has hidden under his cloak and explaining that he intends to use it to help Silvia climb down from her tower that very night so they can elope.
Proteus, now himself smitten with Silvia despite his previous devotion to Julia, immediately betrays Valentine’s confidence to the Duke. The Duke then cunningly approaches Valentine, pretending to seek advice about wooing a lady himself. Valentine naively reveals his own tactics and even shows the Duke the rope ladder and letter hidden beneath his cloak. The Duke, outraged at discovering Valentine’s plan to steal away with Silvia, banishes him from Milan immediately, threatening death if he returns. Valentine departs in despair, while Proteus falsely consoles him, and Thurio and the Duke discuss how Proteus will now help Thurio win Silvia’s affections by slandering the banished Valentine.
The Two Gentlemen of Verona follows the friendship and romantic entanglements of Valentine and Proteus, two young gentlemen from Verona. The play opens with Valentine departing for Milan to experience court life, leaving behind his friend Proteus, who is deeply in love with Julia. Soon after, Proteus is also sent to Milan by his father, forcing him to leave Julia, though they secretly exchange rings as tokens of their love. Meanwhile, Julia decides to disguise herself as a young man named Sebastian and follow Proteus to Milan.
In Milan, Valentine has fallen in love with Silvia, the Duke’s daughter, and she returns his affection. However, when Proteus arrives and meets Silvia, he immediately forgets his love for Julia and becomes infatuated with his friend’s beloved. In an act of betrayal, Proteus reveals Valentine’s secret plan to elope with Silvia to her father, the Duke. As punishment, Valentine is banished from Milan and becomes the leader of a group of outlaws in the forest.
The climax unfolds in the forest where all the characters converge. Proteus pursues the disguised Julia (still dressed as Sebastian, who has become his page) and attempts to force his attentions on Silvia, who has fled to find Valentine. Valentine arrives just in time to stop the assault, and when Proteus expresses remorse, Valentine magnanimously offers to give up Silvia to restore their friendship. At this moment, Julia faints and reveals her true identity. The play concludes with the Duke’s arrival, his pardon of Valentine and the outlaws, and the restoration of proper romantic pairings: Valentine with Silvia and Proteus reunited with the forgiving Julia.