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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,
Luc. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire;
The current, that with gentle murmur glides,
But, when his fair course is not hindered,
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage;
With willing sport, to the wild ocean.
Luc. But in what habit will you go along?
Luc. Why then your ladyship must cut your
Jul. No, girl; I'll knit it up in silken strings,
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.
Luc. If you think So, then stay at home, and go
Jul. Nay, that I will not.
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:
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
The law of friendship bids me to conceal :
Which else no worldly good should draw from me.
Duke. Proteus, I thank thee for thine honest care;
Pro. Know, noble lord, they have devis'd a
How he her chamber-window will ascend,
Pro. Adieu, my lord; sir Valentine is coming.
Duke. Sir Valentine, whither away so fast? Val. Please it your grace, there is a messenger That stays to bear my letters to my friends, And I am going to deliver them.
Duke. Be they of much import? Val. The tenor of them doth but signify My health, and happy being at your court. Duke. Nay, then no matter; stay with me awhile;
I am to break with thee of some affairs,
That touch me near, wherein thou must be secret,
Were rich and honourable; besides, the gentle
Is full of virtue, bounty, worth, and qualities