Luc. That the contents will shew.

Jul. Say, say; who gave it thee

190

Luc. Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from

Protheus:

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.

200

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,

211

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!

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?

220

Luc. To take a paper up, that I let fall.

230

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 your's hath writ to you in rhime. 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.

240

Jul. Heavy? belike, it hath some burden then. Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it. Jul. And why not you?

Luc.

Luc. I cannot reach so high.

Jul. Let's see your song :-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.

250

Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base.
Luc. Indeed, I bid the base for Protheus.
Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.
Here is a coil with protestation !--

Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie :
You would be fingering them, to anger me.

[Tears it.

260

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!
Oh 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.
Look, here is writ-love-wounded Protheus :-
Poor wounded name! my bosom, as a bed,

270

Shall

280

Shall lodge thee, till thy wound be throughly heal'd;
And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
But twice, or thrice, was Protheus 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 Protheus, passionate Protheus,
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.

Re-enter LUCETTA.

Luc. Madam, dinner's ready, and your father stays. Jul. Well, let us go.

Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales

here?

Jul. If thou 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.

SCENE

SCENE III.

ANTHONIO'S House. Enter ANTHONIO, and PAN

THINO.

Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that, Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? 300 Pant. 'Twas of his nephew Protheus, your son. Ant. Why, what of him?

Pant. He wonder'd, that your lordship
Would suffer him to spend his youth at home;
While other men, of slender reputation,
Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:
Some to the wars, to try their fortune there ;
Some, to discover islands far away ;
Some, to the studious universities.
For any, or for all these exercises,

He said, that Protheus, your son, was meet;
And did request me, to importune you,
To let him spend his time no more at home,
Which would be great impeachment to his age,
In having known no travel in his youth.

310

Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that Whereon this month I have been hammering.

I have consider'd well his loss of time;
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being try'd, and tutor’d in the world:
Experience is by industry achiev'd,

And perfected by the swift course of time:
Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him ?

320

Pant.