Love bade me swear, and love bids me forswear. Unheedful vows may heedfully be broken; But there I leave to love, where I should love. If I keep them, I needs must lose myself; I will forget that Julia is alive, (1) Tempting. (2) Confederate. (3) Intended. SCENE VII-Verona. A room in Julia's house. Enter Julia and Lucetta. Jul. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me! And, even in kind love, I do conjure thee,-Who art the table wherein all my thoughts Are visibly character'd and engrav'd,To lesson me: and tell me some good mean, How, with my honour, I may undertake A journey to my loving Proteus. Luc. Alas! the way is wearisome and long. Jul. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps; Much less shall she, that hath love's wings to fly; And when the flight is made to one so dear, Of such divine perfection, as Sir Proteus. Luc. Better forbear, till Proteus make return. Jul. O, know'st thou not, his looks are my soul's food? Pity the dearth that I have pined in, By longing for that food so long a time. Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire; But qualify the fire's extreme rage, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. Jul. The more thou dam'st it up, the more it burns; The current, that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage; But, when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage; And so by many winding nooks he strays, (1) Closest. With willing sport, to the wild ocean. And make a pastime of each weary step, Luc. But in what habit will you go along? Luc. Why then your ladyship must cut your hair. Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in silken strings, Of greater time than I shall show to be. Luc. What fashion, madam, shall I make your breeches? Jul. That fits as well, as- tell me, good my lord, What compass will you wear your farthingale?' Why, even that fashion thou best lik'st, Lucetta. Luc. You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam. Jul. Out, out, Lucetta! that will be ill-favour'd. Luc. A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin, Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on. Jul. Lucetta, as thou lov'st me, let me have What thou think'st meet, and is most mannerly: But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me, For undertaking so unstaid a journey? I fear me, it will make me scandaliz'd. Luc. If you think so, then stay at home, and go not. Jul. Nay, that I will not. (1) Trouble. Luc. Then never dream on infamy, but go. If Proteus like your journey, when you come, No matter who's displeas'd, when you are gone: I fear me, he will scarce be pleas'd withal. Jul. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear: A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears, And instances as infinite of love, Warrant me welcome to my Proteus. Luc. All these are servants to deceitful men. Jul. Base men, that use them to so base effect! But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth; His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles; His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate; His tears, pure messengers sent from his heart; His heart as far from fraud, as heaven from earth. Luc. Pray heaven, he prove so, when you come to him! Jul. Now, as thou lov'st me, do him not that wrong, To bear a hard opinion of his truth: [Exeunt ACT III. SCENE I-Milan. An anti-room in the Duke's palace. Enter Duke, Thurio, and Proteus. Duke. Sir Thurio, give us leave, I pray, awhile; (1) Longed for. We have some secrets to confer about. [Exit Thurio. Now, tell me, Proteus, what's your will with me? Pro. My gracious lord, that which I would dis cover, The law of friendship bids me to conceal : My duty pricks me on to utter that Which else no worldly good should draw from me. I know, you have determin'd to bestow her Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care; (1) Guess. |