Act I. Scene
Scene II.The Same. The Garden of JULIA'S
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 un-
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 Egla-
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 Mer-
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
Luc. Pardon, dear madam; 'tis a passing
That I, unworthy body as I am,
Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.
Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the
Luc. Then thus,of many good I think him
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
Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast
Jul. Why, he, of all the rest hath never
Luc. Yet he of all the rest, I think, best
Jul. His little speaking shows his love but
Luc. Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.
Jul. They do not love that do not show their
Luc. O! they love least that let men know
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,
He would have given it you, but I. being in
Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault,
Jul. Now, by nay 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 returned;
Or else return no more into my sight.
Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee
Jul. Will ye be gone?
Luc. That you may ruminate. [Exit.
Jul. And yet I would I had o'erlook'd the
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
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!
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 gin-
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 con-
Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns,
Unless it have a false interpreter.
Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you
Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a
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
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
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
Luc. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.
Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble
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
To be so anger'd with another letter. [Exit.
Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the
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
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
And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
But twice or thrice was 'Proteus' written
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
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.
Dinner is ready, and your father stays.
Jul. Well, let us go.
Luc. What! shall these papers lie like tell-
Jul. If you respect them, best to take them
Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them
Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold.
Jul. I see you have a month's mind to
Luc. Ay, madam, you may say what sights
I see things too, although you judge I wink.
Jul. Come, come; will't please you go?