Silvia is running away to find Valentine! with that nice Sir Eglamour (5.1.1-12) #2Dudes1Dog #SlowShakespeare

Enter Eglamour

EGLAMOUR    The sun begins to gild the western sky,

And now it is about the very hour

That Silvia at Friar Patrick’s cell should meet me.

She will not fail; for lovers break not hours,

Unless it be to come before their time,

So much they spur their expedition.

 [Enter Silvia]

See where she comes. Lady, a happy evening!

SILVIA Amen, amen. Go on, good Eglamour,

Out at the postern by the abbey wall.

I fear I am attended by some spies.

EGLAMOUR Fear not – the forest is not three leagues off.

If we recover that, we are sure enough.

Exeunt             (5.1.1-12)

 

Tiny, functional scene: Silvia is running away from Milan with the courteous Sir Eglamour, seeking Valentine! It’s sunset, or nearly—the sun begins to gild the western sky—and he’s on time, waiting for her at their agreed rendezvous: and now it is about the very hour that Silvia at Friar Patrick’s cell should meet me. (That completely authentic Milanese Franciscan…) He’s confident that she’s on her way—she will not fail—for lovers break not hours, unless it be to come before their time, so much they spur their expedition. She’ll be on time, lovers are always punctual, on the dot—unless they’re early, so keen, so full of anticipation and desire. They make haste! And here’s Silvia: see where she comes! Lady, a happy evening! (So courteous—but he’s also wishing her good luck, hence her reply: amen, amen. So be it, fingers crossed.) Go on, good Eglamour, she continues, out at the postern by the abbey wall. That’s the way we’ve got to go, through that little side gate. (The suggestion is perhaps that the abbey—where the notional Friar Patrick has his cell—is adjacent to the city walls.) I fear I am attended by some spies: I worry that I’ve been followed! Sir Eglamour is, of course, gallant and reassuring: fear not—the forest is not three leagues off. It’s not far until we’ll be under cover, far from the sight of prying eyes. (He almost certainly doesn’t mean three actual leagues, around ten miles. That would be far too far to walk, and there’s no suggestion of horses.) If we recover that, we are sure enough. Once we get to the forest, we’ll be fine.

So off they go, and the play’s final movement is underway…

 

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