VALENTINE                Proteus,

I am sorry I must never trust thee more,

But count the world a stranger for thy sake.

The private wound is deepest. O time most accursed,

’Mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst!

PROTEUS       My shame and guilt confounds me.

Forgive me, Valentine. If hearty sorrow

Be a sufficient ransom for offence,

I tender’t here. I do as truly suffer

As e’er I did commit.             (5.4.69-78)

Valentine is deep in more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger mode now: Proteus, I am sorry I must never trust thee more, but count the world a stranger for thy sake. We’re done, you broke this, you’re the reason I was banished, that I must live in exile, as an outlaw. And the private wound is deepest: your betrayal hurts me more than the banishment itself. (He isn’t saying anything about Silvia. It’s all about the bros, about their friendship, and how Proteus has wrecked it.) O time most accursed, ’mongst all foes that a friend should be the worst! There’s a little aphorism to confirm it: that’s the most dreadful thing, that my best friend should have become my worst enemy!

What’s Proteus to say? He’s stricken, and he’s going to grovel and abase himself. Scope for an actor to flick a guilty, shamefaced glance at Silvia—whatever she’s doing—but it’s to Valentine that he (mostly?) speaks. My shame and guilt confounds me. Forgive me, Valentine. (WHAT ABOUT SILVIA??? WHAT ABOUT JULIA?????) If hearty sorrow be a sufficient ransom for offence, I tender’t here. I’m just so, so sorry; that’s all I can say, all the recompense I can offer to you. I know it’s not enough, but, here I am, holding up my hands and saying: sorry, man. I do as truly suffer as e’er I did commit. This is completely, totally genuine repentance; I’m atoning every bit as intensely as I transgressed. (Are we good?)

(WHAT ABOUT SILVIA??? WHAT ABOUT JULIA?????)