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.
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 harbor 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!
[Enter Lucetta.]
Luc.
What would your ladyship?
Jul.
Is’t 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 rhyme.
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
