The Same. The Garden of JULIA'S House. |
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Enter JULIA and LUCETTA. |
Jul. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, |
Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love? |
Luc. Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheedfully. |
Jul. Of all the fair resort of gentlemen |
That every day with parle encounter me, |
In thy opinion which is worthiest love? |
Luc. Please you repeat their names, I'll show my mind |
According to my shallow simple skill. |
Jul. What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour? |
Luc. As of a knight well-spoken, neat and fine; |
But, were I you, he never should be mine. |
Jul. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio? |
Luc. Well of his wealth; but of himself, so so. |
Jul. What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus? |
Luc. Lord, Lord! to see what folly reigns in us! |
Jul. How now! what means this passion at his name? |
Luc. Pardon, dear madam; 'tis a passing shame |
That I, unworthy body as I am, |
Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen. |
Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest? |
Luc. Then thus,—of many good I think him best. |
Jul. Your reason? |
Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason: |
I think him so because I think him so. |
Jul. And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him? |
Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away. |
Jul. Why, he, of all the rest hath never mov'd me. |
Luc. Yet he of all the rest, I think, best loves ye. |
Jul. His little speaking shows his love but small. |
Luc. Fire that's closest kept burns most of all. |
Jul. They do not love that do not show their love. |
Luc. O! they love least that let men know their love. |
Jul. I would I knew his mind. |
Luc. Peruse this paper, madam. [Gives a letter. |
Jul. 'To Julia.'—Say from whom? |
Luc. That the contents will show. |
Jul. Say, say, who gave it thee? |
Luc. Sir Valentine's page, and sent, I think, from Proteus. |
He would have given it you, but I, being in the way, |
Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault, I pray. |
Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker! |
Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines? |
To whisper and conspire against my youth? |
Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth |
And you an officer fit for the place. |
There, take the paper: see it be return 'd; |
Or else return no more into my sight. |
Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate. |
Jul. Will ye be gone? |
Luc. That you may ruminate.[Exit. |
Jul. And yet I would I had o'erlook'd the letter. |
It were a shame to call her back again |
And pray her to a fault for which I chid her. |
What fool is she, that knows I am a maid, |
And would not force the letter to my view! |
Since maids, in modesty, say 'No' to that |
Which they would have the profferer construe 'Ay.' |
Fie, fie! how wayward is this foolish love |
That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse |
And presently all humbled kiss the rod! |
How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence, |
When willingly I would have had her here: |
How angerly I taught my brow to frown, |
When inward joy enforc'd my heart to smile. |
My penance is, to call Lucetta back |
And ask remission for my folly past. |
What ho! Lucetta! |
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Re-enter LUCETTA. |
Luc. What would your ladyship? |
Jul. Is it near dinner-time? |
Luc. I would it were; |
That you might kill your stomach on your meat |
And not upon your maid. |
Jul. What is't that you took up so gingerly? |
Luc. Nothing. |
Jul. Why didst thou stoop, then? |
Luc. To take a paper up |
That I let fall. |
Jul. And is that paper nothing? |
Luc. Nothing concerning me. |
Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns. |
Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns, |
Unless it have a false interpreter. |
Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rime. |
Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune: |
Give me a note: your ladyship can set. |
Jul. As little by such toys as may be possible; |
Best sing it to the tune of 'Light o' Love.' |
Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune. |
Jul. Heavy! belike it hath some burden, then? |
Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it. |
Jul. And why not you? |
Luc. I cannot reach so high. |
Jul. Let's see your song. [Taking the letter.] |
How now, minion! |
Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out: |
And yet methinks, I do not like this tune. |
Jul. You do not? |
Luc. No, madam; it is too sharp. |
Jul. You, minion, are too saucy. |
Luc. Nay, now you are too flat |
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant: |
There wanteth but a mean to fill your song. |
Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly bass. |
Luc. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus. |
Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me. |
Here is a coil with protestation!— [Tears the letter. |
Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie: |
You would be fingering them, to anger me. |
Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleas'd |
To be so anger'd with another letter. [Exit. |
Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same! |
O hateful hands, to tear such loving words! |
Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey |
And kill the bees that yield it with your stings! |
I'll kiss each several paper for amends. |
Look, here is writ 'kind Julia:' unkind Julia! |
As in revenge of thy ingratitude, |
I throw thy name against the bruising stones, |
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain. |
And here is writ 'love-wounded Proteus:' |
Poor wounded name! my bosom, as a bed |
Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd; |
And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss. |
But twice or thrice was 'Proteus' written down: |
Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away |
Till I have found each letter in the letter, |
Except mine own name; that some whirlwind bear |
Unto a ragged, fearful hanging rock, |
And throw it thence into the raging sea! |
Lo! here in one line is his name twice writ, |
'Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus, |
To the sweet Julia':—that I'll tear away; |
And yet I will not, sith so prettily |
He couples it to his complaining names: |
Thus will I fold them one upon another: |
Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will. |
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Re-enter LUCETTA. |
Luc. Madam, |
Dinner is ready, and your father stays. |
Jul. Well, let us go. |
Luc. What! shall these papers lie like tell-tales here? |
Jul. If you respect them, best to take them up. |
Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down; |
Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold. |
Jul. I see you have a month's mind to them. |
Luc. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see; |
I see things too, although you judge I wink. |
Jul. Come, come; will't please you go? [Exeunt. |
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