Character

Second Outlaw in Two Gentlemen of Verona

Role: Exiled gentleman turned forest brigand; one of Valentine's outlaw companions First appearance: Act 4, Scene 1 Last appearance: Act 5, Scene 3 Approx. lines: 10

The Second Outlaw is one of the forest brigands who capture Valentine on the road from Milan. Like his fellows, he is a gentleman fallen into banditry through circumstance—specifically, he was banished from Mantua for killing a man in his anger. He speaks little but with directness and some dignity. When Valentine first encounters the outlaws on the road, the Second Outlaw asks practical questions about Valentine’s origins and background, quickly recognizing in him a man of education and worth. He is the one who inquires whether Valentine has linguistic abilities and understanding of the world, signs that he might be fit to lead their band. Though he carries a sword and participates in the robbery and kidnapping that the outlaws commit, his tone suggests a certain reluctance—he and his companions are men “thrust from the company of awful men” by the wildness of their youth, not inherently vicious.

When the outlaws present their case to Valentine, the Second Outlaw speaks of his own crime without excuse or dramatics: he stabbed a gentleman “in my mood,” in a fit of anger. This confession, paired with his matter-of-fact delivery, suggests a man who has accepted his exile and moved past the heat of his crime into a kind of resigned pragmatism. He is interested in order and leadership—the outlaws operate under their own laws, and they clearly see in Valentine the possibility of structure and purpose. He follows Valentine’s instruction without question once the captain accepts the position, and by the play’s end, he is among those pardoned by the Duke and recalled from exile, his reformation apparently genuine.

The Second Outlaw represents the possibility of redemption through loyalty and a change of circumstance. He is not a monster or a comic villain, but a man whose youth and passion led him astray, and whose exile has given him time to reflect. In the final scene, when the Duke pardons all the outlaws on Valentine’s behalf, the Second Outlaw is implicitly restored—a quiet reward for his service and his capacity to change. His sparse dialogue and steady presence throughout the forest scenes make him a solid, believable member of Valentine’s reformed band.

Key quotes

O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman-- Think not I flatter, for I swear I do not-- Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplish’d: Thou art not ignorant what dear good will I bear unto the banish’d Valentine, Nor how my father would enforce me marry Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhors. 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 vow’dst 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. Urge not my father’s anger, Eglamour, But think upon my grief, a lady’s grief, And on the justice of my flying hence, To keep me from a most unholy match, Which heaven and fortune still rewards with plagues. I do desire thee, even from a heart As full of sorrows as the sea of sands, To bear me company and go with me: If not, to hide what I have said to thee, That I may venture to depart alone.

Oh, Eglamour, you are a true gentleman-- Don’t think I’m flattering you, because I’m not-- Brave, wise, kind-hearted, well-educated: You know how much I care for the exiled Valentine, And how my father wants me to marry The useless Thurio, whom I can’t stand. You’ve loved too; and I’ve heard you say That no pain has ever hurt you as much As when your lady and true love died, And on her grave you swore chastity. Sir Eglamour, I wish to go to Valentine, To Mantua, where I know he’s staying; And since the journey is dangerous, I want you to come with me, Because I trust your faith and honor. Don’t worry about my father’s anger, Eglamour, Just think of my pain, the pain of a lady, And the justice of my running away, To avoid a terrible marriage, Which heaven and fortune always punish. I beg you, with a heart As full of sorrow as the sea is of sand, To come with me: If not, please keep secret what I’ve said, So I can leave on my own.

Second Outlaw · Act 4, Scene 3

Silvia is asking Eglamour to help her escape from her father's plan to marry her to Thurio, and she appeals to his understanding of love and loss. The speech matters because Silvia refuses to be passive—she claims her own right to choose, to flee, to seek her true love. It tells us the play sees Silvia as the moral center, the one who will not compromise on justice or truth.

And I from Mantua, for a gentleman, Who, in my mood, I stabb’d unto the heart.

And I was banished from Mantua, for a crime, I killed a man who offended me in my anger.

Second Outlaw · Act 4, Scene 1

The Second Outlaw is explaining his exile as punishment for killing a man in a fit of rage, matching the others' stories of love gone wrong. The line matters because it shows that even these crimes come from passion, not malice—a man acting on impulse, not calculation. It tells us the outlaws are not villains but men who loved, wanted, and lost control.

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Where Second appears

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Hear Second Outlaw, narrated.

Synced read-along narration: every line, Second Outlaw's voice and the others, words highlighting as they're spoken.