Julia, who has come in boy's dress from Verona to look for Proteus, finds him still unsuccessfully courting Silvia. She enters his service as a page. He sends her on a message to Silvia. On her way to deliver the message, Julia meets Silvia flying from home in search of Valentine. In her search for Valentine, Silvia is caught by the gang of outlaws. Proteus rescues her, and threatens to resume his suit with violence. Valentine, entering, stops this. Proteus sues for pardon to Valentine and Julia. He is received to mercy. The Duke after dismissing Thurio, pardons Valentine, and grants him Silvia's hand in marriage. _Love's Labour's Lost_ is fantasy. The _Two Gentlemen of Verona_ deals with real human relationships. It is a better play than the fantasy, though the fantasy has moments of better poetry. It carries on one of the problems raised in _Love's Labour's Lost_. It is the work of a troubled mind. It comes from the mood in which the sonnets were written. Twice in _Love's Labour's Lost_ the act of oath-breaking, of being forsworn, is important to the play's structure. Though the vows broken in that play are fantastic, the characters feel real dishonour at the breaking of them. The play shows that though the idea of vow-breaking was in Shakespeare's mind, he had not then the power, or the human experience, or the mental peace, to grapple with it fairly, or see it truly. The idea, that the person for whom the vows are broken brings with her the punishment of the sin of vow-breaking, haunts the mind of Biron (in Act IV, sc. iii)-- "Sow'd cockle reap'd no corn: And justice always whirls in equal measure: Light wenches may prove plagues to men forsworn." In the _Two Gentlemen of Verona_, this idea, the idea that treachery caused by some obsession is at the root of most tragedy, was treated by him at length, perhaps for the first time. That it haunted him then, and remained all through his life as the pole-star of dramatic action is evident to all who read his works as poetry should be read. It is the law of his imagination. Passion, not weakness of will, but strength of will blinded, is the commonest cause of treachery among us. The great poets have agreed that anything that distorts the mental vision, anything thought of too much, is a danger to us. Passion that with the glimmer of a new drunkenness blinds the mature to the life and death memories of marriage, and kills in the immature the memory of love, friendship, and past benefits, is a form of destruction. In its action as a destroyer, it is the subject of Shakespeare's greatest plays. In the _Two Gentlemen of Verona_ he is interested less in the destruction than in the moral blindness that leads to it.