Which cannot perish, having thee aboard,
Being destined to a drier death on fhore.
I must go fend fome better meffenger:
I fear my Julia would not deign my lines,
Receiving them from fuch a worthless poft.

[Exeunt feverally.

SCENE changes to Julia's Chamber.
Enter JULIA and LUCETTA.

Jul. But fay, Lucetta, now we are alone,
Would't thou then counsel me to fall in love?
Luc. Ay, Madam, so you stumble not unheedfully.
Jul. Of all the fair refort of gentlemen
That every day with parle encounter me,
In thy opinion which is worthiest love?

Lac. Please you repeat their names; I'll fhew my According to my fhallow fimple skill.

[mind, Jul. What thinkeft thou of the fair Sir Eglamour? Luc. As of a Knight well spoken, neat and fine; But were I you, he never fhould be mine.

Jul. What thinkeft thou of the rich Mercatio? Luc. Well of his wealth; but of himself, fo, fo. Jul. What thinkeft thou of the gentle Protheus? Luc. Lord, Lord! to fee what folly reigns in us! Jul. How now? what means this paffion at his

name?

Luc. Pardon, dear Madam; 'tis à paffing fhame, That I, unworthy body as I am,

Should cenfure thus on lovely gentlemen.

Jul. Why not on Protheus, as of all the ret? Luc. Then thus; of many good, I think him best. Jul. Your reafon !

Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason; I think him fo, because I think him fo. [him? Jul. And wouldelt thou have me caft my love on Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not caft away. VOL. IV.

B

Jul. Why, he of all the reft hath never moved me,
Luc. Yet he of all the reft, I think, beft loves ye.
Jul. His little speaking fhews his love but small.
Luc. The fire that's closest kept, burns most of all.
Jul. They do not love, that do not fhew their
love.

Luc. Oh, they love least, that let men know their
love.

Ful. I would I knew his mind.
Luc. Perufe this paper, Madam.
Jul. To Julia; fay, from whom?
Luc. That the contents will fhew.
Jul. Say, fay; who gave it thee?

Luc. Sir Valentine's page; and fent, 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 modefty, a goodly broker!
Dare you prefume to harbour wanton lines?
To whifper and confpire against my youth?
Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth,
And you an officer fit for the place.

There, take the paper; fee it be returned,
Or elfe return no more into my fight.

Luc. To plead for love deferves more fee than hate.

e?

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 fhame to call her back again,

And pray

her to a fault, for which I chid her.

What fool is fhe, that knows I am a maid,

And would not force the letter to my view?

Since maids, in modefty, fay no, to that

Which they would have the profferer conftrue, ay.

Fy, fy, how wayward is this foolish love,
That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse,
And prefently, all humbled, kifs the rod !
How churlifhly I chid Lucetta hence,
When willingly I would have had her here!
How angerly I taught my brow to frown,
When inward joy enforced my heart to fmile!
My penance is to call Lucetta back,

And afk remiffion for my folly past.
What ho! Lucetta!

Re-enter LUCETTA.

Luc. What would your Ladyfhip?

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 fo gingerly?

Luc. Nothing.

Jul. Why didit thou ftoop then?

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

Ful. And is that paper nothing?

Luc. Nothing concerning me.

Jul. Then let it ly for those that it concerns. Luc. Madam, it will not ly where it concerns, Unless it have a falfe interpreter.

Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme, Luc. That I might fing it, Madam, to a tune: Give me a note; your Ladyfhip can fet.

Jul. As little by fuch toys as may be poffible: Best fing it to the tune of Light o' love. Luc. It is too heavy for fo light a tune. Jut. Heavy? belike it hath fome burden then. Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you fingit. Jul. And why not you?

Luc. I cannot reach so high.

Jul. Let's fee your fong:

How now, minion?

Luc. Keep tune there ftill, fo you will fing it out And yet, methinks, I do not like this tune. Jul. You do not?

Luc. No, Madam, 'tis too fharp.

Jul. You, minion, are too faucy.

Luc. Nay, now you are too flat,

And mar the concord with too harsh a defcant: There wanteth but a mean, to fill your fong.

Jul. The mean is drowned with your unruly base.. Luc. Indeed, I bid the base for Protheus. (5) Jul. This bauble fhall not henceforth trouble me. Here is a coil with protestation! [Tears it. Go, get you gone; and let the papers ly: You would be fingering them, to anger me. Luc. She makes it ftrange, but he would be beft pleafed

To be fo angered with another letter.

[Exit.
Jul. Nay, would I were fo angered with the fame!
Oh hateful hands, to tear fuch loving words;
Injurious wafps, to feed on fuch. fweet 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 againit the bruising stones,
Trampling contemptuoufly on thy disdain.
Look, here is writ, Love-wounded Protheus.

(3) I bid the bafe for Protheus.] Lucetta here alters the allegory from the bafe in mufic to a country-exercise, called in the North, bid-the-befe; in which fome pursue, to take the others prifoners. So that Lucetta would intend to fay, Indeed, I take pains to make you a captive for Protheus.' Mr Warbution.

66

Poor wounded name! my bofom, as a bed,
Shall lodge thee, 'till thy wound be throughly healed';
And thus I fearch it with a fovereign kifs.

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 fome whirlwind bear
Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock,

And throw it thence into the raging fea!
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ:
Poor forlorn Protheus, passionate Protheus
To the fweet Julia: that I'll tear away;
And yet I will not, fith fo prettily
He couples it to his complaining names:
Thus will I fold them one upon another;
Now kifs, embrace, contend, do what you will..
Enter LUCETTA.

Luc. Madam, dinner is ready, and your father stays. ful. Well, let us go.

**

Luc. What, shall these papers ly like tell-tales here?` Jul. If you refpect them, best to take them up. Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down Yet here they fhall not ly, for catching cold.. Jul. I fee you have a month's mind to them. Luc. Ay, Madam; you may fay what fights you fee: I fee things too, although you judge I wink. Jul. Come, come, will't pleafe you go? [Exeunt

SCENE, Anthonio's Houfe..

Enter ANTHONIO and PANTHION.

Ant. Tell me, Panthion, what fad talk was that Wherewith my brother held you in the clofter? Pant. 'Twas of his nephew Protheus, your fon.? Ant. Why, what of him?