PROTEUS       Hope is a lover’s staff; walk hence with that

And manage it against despairing thoughts.

Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence,

Which, being writ to me, shall be delivered

Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.

The time now serves not to expostulate.

Come, I’ll convey thee through the city gate,

And ere I part with thee confer at large

Of all that may concern thy love affairs.

As thou lov’st Silvia, though not for thyself,

Regard thy danger, and along with me.     (3.1.243-253)

Hope is a lover’s staff, says Proteus, just a little pompously; that will sustain you, keep you upright like a walking stick on your journey (or pilgrimage), so, walk hence with that. Take hope with you, and manage it against despairing thoughts: use it to ward off despair, like a weapon. (Proteus’s conceit is less mannered, perhaps, if one remembers that a staff was a standard piece of equipment for walking, and that fighting with a staff was still a common form of combat, taught in the fencing schools of London, albeit much more old fashioned, and far less elite, than the rapier. There might even be a humorous gesture, a punch to the arm, a bit of sparring.) Don’t give up! Keep hoping!

Because, after all, thy letters may be here, though thou art hence—you can still write to her!—and your letters, being writ to me, shall be delivered even in the milk-white bosom of thy love. Sure, Proteus. Like you’re going to pass on Valentine’s letters to Silvia, and not straight to the Duke, or the bin. A pause, of course, eyes far away, sliding out of focus, as he thinks about Silvia’s milk-white bosom, a letter being slowly slipped down inside her bodice for concealment… (Julia did the same with Proteus’s letter.)

But the time now serves not to expostulate. No more time for talk! (Valentine might have started to raise an objection, or even to thank his friend for thinking things through for him.) Come, I’ll convey thee through the city gate—I’ll go with you! (also, I will absolutely make sure that you’ve really left Milan) and ere I part with thee confer at large of all that may concern thy love affairs. We’ll talk it all over on the way, promise, really make a plan. I’m here for you, bro! But, as thou lov’st Silvia, though not for thyself, regard thy danger and along with me. I know that right now you don’t care what happens to you—but, you know, if anything did, that’d really upset Silvia, and so you need to take care, get a grip, realise that you’re in a bad place, and that you have to leave now. With me. Right now. NOW.