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! There, take the paper, see it be returned ; Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate. Jul. Will Luc. you be gone? That you may ruminate. [Exit. Jul. And yet, I would I had o'erlooked the letter. It were a shame to call her back again, And pray her to a fault for which I chid her. How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence, And ask permission for my folly past:— That you might kill your stomach1 on your meat, And not upon your maid. Jul. What is't So gingerly? Luc. Nothing. you took up 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. in rhyme. Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you Jul. As little by such toys as may be possible: Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune. Jul. Heavy? belike it hath some burden then. Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it. Jul. And why not you? 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: 2 Jul The mean is drowned with your unruly base. Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me. 1 Passion or obstinacy. 2 Descant signified formerly what we now call variations. The mean is the tenor in music. 3 To bid the base means, to run fast, challenging another to pursue at the rustic game called Base, or Prisonbase. The allusion is somewhat obscure, but it appears to mean here, "to challenge to an encounter." Here is a coil1 with protestation! [Tears the letter. Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie: Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleased To be so angered with another letter. [Exit. Jul. Nay, would I were as angered with the same! O hateful hands, to tear such loving words! I throw thy name against the bruising stones, But twice, or thrice, was Proteus written down: Except mine own name; that some whirlwind bear Luc. Madam, Re-enter LUCETTA. Dinner is ready, and your father stays. Jul. Well, let us go. will. Luc. What, shall these papers lie like telltales here? Pant. I think, your lordship is not ignorant, How his companion, youthful Valentine, Attends the emperor in his royal court. Ant. I know it well. Pant. "Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither: There shall he practise tilts and tournaments, Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth. Ant. I like thy counsel: well hast thou advised · And, that thou may'st perceive how well I like it, The execution of it shall make known; Even with the speediest expedition I will despatch him to the emperor's court. Pant. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso, With other gentlemen of good esteem, Are journeying to salute the emperor, Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go: And, in good time,-now will we break with him. Enter PROTEUS. Pro. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life! Ant. How now? what letter are you reading there? Pro. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two Of commendations sent from Valentine, Delivered by a friend that came from him. Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news. Pro. There is no news, my lord; but that he writes How happily he lives, how well beloved 1 i. e. break the matter to him. |