And the Curtain Closes

The Two Gentlemen of Verona may as well have never have ended. It's not that it was a particularly grand play in terms of its plot. It may be jam-packed with great comedy, but its character interactions aren't particularly novel or touching (except, perhaps Speed's with his dog Crab).

Why it shouldn't have ended is simply because it doesn't end as almost all other Shakespeare plays end: with the character who wields the most power saying something conclusive in a couplet. The Two Gentlemen of Verona ends instead, with the de facto hero, Valentine uttering some words. That's it. Having been taught and having experienced Shakespeare's trademark ending device so many times, it really feels like The Two Gentlemen of Verona has an extra, lost scene.

In spite of its marks of being an early work, it still shines as something Shakespeare wrote. The plot is solid, though safe, the characters are fun to listen to, and the comedy is laugh of (or chuckle) out loud quality. If you're looking to brush up your Shakespeare, The Two Gentlemen of Verona is a fine pick - especially if you want to see what the Bard was like when he started out.

A Dog and His Boy

The predictable play has taken a turn. One nicely suited to such a romance story, as we see Valentine fall in with a rough crowd.

But that's not the highlight of act four. Oh no. The high point of act four comes in with Speed and his dog Crab. Act four scene four opens with Speed talking to Crab about masters and servants in a cleverly doubling way. What's so winning about this brief section, though, is the way that, even 450+ years later, the deeply caring way in which Speed talks to Crab resonates and endears them both all the more.

The introduction to The Two Gentleman of Verona warned that the dog was a scene stealer, and since there would likely have been a live dog on stage (making for a merry display of a trick of its that Speed mentions, perhaps) during performances, this scene would have been all the more touching and comical.

There's some early Merchant of Venice in this act as well. At least, insofar as its one of Shakespeare's early uses of the trope of the cross-dressed lover spying on and speaking to the other lover.

Though, it's very clear that this is an early play based on the scenes between cross-dressed Julia and Proteus, since she isn't as power driven or mischievous as Portia and Nerissa in the Merchant of Venice. Instead, Julia uses her disguise to get close to Proteus and learn his state, and then to assess Silvia, though in such a way that she becomes suspicious of Proteus' new messenger.

The Two Servants of Verona

The third act of The Two Gentlemen of Verona came and went extra quickly. All the same, it delivered the play's pivotal moment. Proteus has now stepped into the game and is vying for Sylvia's affection. In fact, at the end of act three, Proteus is off to Sylvia's chambers to convince her that Valentine was just a rake so that she can happily agree to her father's choice of Thurio. Of course, Valentine is as smitten with Sylvia as Romeo is with Juliet.

The other Shakespeare staple to be found in the third act is broad comedy. The servants Lance and Speed are the two firing off jokes, but it's also clear that they're no feminists (saying at one point that it's a virtue and no vice for a woman to be "slow in words" (III.i.324)).

The Triangle and the "Servants"

Act two of The Two Gentlemen of Verona makes it quite clear that this is an early work of Shakespeare's. The wordplay flashes, and the comedy is quite rich. But the plot of it has none of the complications of his later works.

Proteus has come to Milan, and meets with Valentine and Sylvia. He becomes smitten with Sylvia and resolves himself to be Valentine's rival for her affections. There is a third man, the one Sylvia's father favours, named Thurio, but so far he's just been something of a pin cushion for Valentine's jokes (as well as some of Sylvia's).

The edition that I'm reading doesn't have any on-page glosses, so I'm not sure if there's a varied meaning to Sylvia's use of "servant" here, but I do wonder what's going on class-wise within this love triangle. She especially refers to Valentine and Proteus as servants, and that is indeed what they came to court to be. Yet, at least Proteus is from a distinguished family, so "servant" could just be a term for someone newly come to court.

Taking a Break for the Bard

Since it's on my book list as a periodical read and the Bard's birthday is believed to be today, I'm going to interrupt my reading list with a play. The first in the second edition of the Wells and Taylor Complete Works of Shakespeare: The Two Gentlemen of Verona.

The play's summary makes it sound like most other plays of the 16th and 17th centuries. It's framed as a story of love and youth and friendship, themes that resound from John Lyly's Gallathea to Shakespeare's own The Tempest. The first act certainly makes it seem so, too, as we follow Valentine and Proteus during their parting and seemingly inevitable reunion.

Although the summary also warns that this play shows some heavy experimentation and the caution of an early attempt at playwriting, I'm still hopeful that Sylvia, the love interest, will be an incredible character. She looks like a major player in act two, so we'll soon see about her.