SILVIA Thyself hast loved, and I have heard thee say

No grief did ever come so near thy heart

As when thy lady and thy true love died,

Upon whose grave thou vowed’st pure chastity.

Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine,

To Mantua, where I hear he makes abode;

And for the ways are dangerous to pass

I do desire thy worthy company,

Upon whose faith and honour I repose.     (4.3.18-26)

Thyself hast loved, says Silvia to Eglamour; you’ve been in love yourself, you know what it’s like—but, even more, I have heard thee say no grief did ever come so near thy heart as when thy lady and thy true love died, upon whose grave thou vow’st pure chastity. Ah! Eglamour is a nice boy and perhaps a figure of fascination, local legend as the mourning faithful lover—he’s the complete opposite of Proteus, pretending that Julia’s dead—and he’s not looking for anyone else, he’s vowed to stay faithful to the memory of his dead beloved. He’s sworn a vow of chastity! Eglamour is truly a figure of romance—but also completely safe, in no way a threat to Silvia—which is why she’s making this proposition. Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine, to Mantua, where I hear he makes abode. I just want to be with him: I’ve heard he’s living in Mantua, and I want to go to him there. (Mantua is where Romeus goes when he’s banished in Brooke’s Romeus and Juliet—and hence in Shakespeare’s later play; Brooke’s poem is a clear source for this earlier play too.) And for the ways are dangerous to pass—because it’s not safe for me to travel there by myself—I do desire thy worthy company, upon whose faith and honour I repose. Will you be my escort and keep me safe on the road? I trust you completely, because of your honour as a gentleman and a faithful, grieving lover. I’m taking a chance on you!