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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Hunchback, by J. S. Knowles
+#1 in our series by James Sheridan Knowles
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+Title: The Hunchback
+
+Author: James Sheridan Knowles
+
+Official Release Date: October, 2002  [Etext #3480]
+[Yes, we are about one year ahead of schedule]
+[The actual date this file first posted = 05/11/01]
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+The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Hunchback, by J. S. Knowles
+*****This file should be named hnchb10.txt or hnchb10.zip******
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+This etext was produced by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk,
+from the 1887 Cassell & Company edition.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE HUNCHBACK
+
+by James Sheridan Knowles
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+
+
+James Sheridan Knowles was born at Cork in 1784, and died at Torquay
+in December, 1862, at the age of 78.  His father was a teacher of
+elocution, who compiled a dictionary, and who was related to the
+Sheridans.  He moved to London when his son was eight years old, and
+there became acquainted with William Hazlitt and Charles Lamb.  The
+son, after his school education, obtained a commission in the army,
+but gave up everything for the stage, and made his first appearance
+at the Crow Street Theatre, in Dublin.  He did not become a great
+actor, and when he took to writing plays he did not prove himself a
+great poet, but his skill in contriving situations through which a
+good actor can make his powers tell upon the public, won the heart
+of the great actor of his day, and as Macready's own poet he rose to
+fame.
+
+Before Macready had discovered him, Sheridan Knowles lived partly by
+teaching elocution at Belfast and Glasgow, partly by practice of
+elocution as an actor.  In 1815 he produced at the Belfast Theatre
+his first play, Caius Gracchus.  His next play, Virginius was
+produced at Glasgow with great success.  Macready, who had, at the
+age of seventeen, begun his career as an actor at his father's
+theatre in Birmingham, had, on Monday, October 5th, 1819, at the age
+of twenty-six, taken the Londoners by storm in the character of
+Richard III Covent Garden reopened its closed treasury.  It was
+promptly followed by a success in Coriolanus, and Macready's place
+was made.  He was at once offered fifty pounds a night for appearing
+on one evening a week at Brighton.  It was just after that turn in
+Macready's fortunes that a friend at Glasgow recommended to him the
+part of Virginius in Sheridan Knowles's play lately produced there.
+He agreed unwillingly to look at it, and says that in April, 1820,
+the parcel containing the MS. came as he was going out.  He
+hesitated, then sat down to read it that he might get a wearisome
+job over.  As he read, he says, "The freshness and simplicity of the
+dialogue fixed my attention; I read on and on, and was soon absorbed
+in the interest of the story and the passion of its scenes, till at
+its close I found myself in such a state of excitement that for a
+time I was undecided what step to take.  Impulse was in the
+ascendant, and snatching up my pen I hurriedly wrote, as my agitated
+feelings prompted, a letter to the author, to me then a perfect
+stranger."  Bryan Procter (Barry Cornwall) read the play next day
+with Macready, and confirmed him in his admiration of it.
+
+Macready at once got it accepted at the theatre, where nothing was
+spent on scenery, but there was a good cast, and the enthusiasm of
+Macready as stage manager for the occasion half affronted some of
+his seniors.  On the 17th of May, 1820, about a month after it came
+into Macready's hands, Virginius was produced at Covent Garden,
+where, says the actor in his "Reminiscences," "the curtain fell
+amidst the most deafening applause of a highly-excited auditory."
+Sheridan Knowles's fame, therefore, was made, like that of his
+friend Macready, and the friendship between author and actor
+continued.  Sheridan Knowles had a kindly simplicity of character,
+and the two qualities for which an actor most prizes a dramatist,
+skill in providing opportunities for acting that will tell, and
+readiness to make any changes that the actor asks for.  The
+postscript to his first letter to Macready was, "Make any
+alterations you like in any part of the play, and I shall be obliged
+to you."  When he brought to the great actor his play of William
+Tell--Caius Gracchus had been produced in November, 1823--there were
+passages of writing in it that stopped the course of action, and,
+says Macready, "Knowles had less of the tenacity of authorship than
+most writers," so that there was no difficulty about alterations,
+Macready having in a very high degree the tenacity of actorship.
+And so, in 1825, Tell became another of Macready's best successes.
+
+Sheridan Knowles continued to write for the stage until 1845, when
+he was drawn wholly from the theatre by a religious enthusiasm that
+caused him, in 1851, to essay the breaking of a lance with Cardinal
+Wiseman on the subject of Transubstantiation.  Sir Robert Peel gave
+ease to his latter days by a pension of 200 pounds a year from the
+Civil List, which he had honourably earned by a career as dramatist,
+in which he sought to appeal only to the higher sense of literature,
+and to draw enjoyment from the purest source.  Of his plays time two
+comedies {1} here given are all that have kept their place upon the
+stage.  As one of the most earnest dramatic writers of the present
+century he is entitled to a little corner in our memory.  Worse work
+of the past has lasted longer than the plays of Sheridan Knowles are
+likely to last through the future.
+
+H. M.
+
+
+
+THE HUNCHBACK.
+
+
+
+DRAMATIS PERSONAE.
+(AS ORIGINALLY PERFORMED AT COVENT GARDEN IN 1832.)
+
+
+
+Julia                     Miss F. KEMBLE.
+Helen                     Miss TAYLOR.
+Master Walter             Mr. J. S. KNOWLES.
+Sir Thomas Clifford       Mr. C. KEMBLE.
+Lord Tinsel               Mr. WRENCH.
+Master Wilford            Mr. J. MASON.
+Modus                     Mr. ABBOTT.
+Master Heartwell          Mr. EVANS.
+Gaylove                   Mr. HENRY.
+Fathom                    Mr. MEADOWS.
+Thomas                    Mr. BARNES.
+Stephen                   Mr. PAYNE.
+Williams                  Mr. IRWIN.
+Simpson                   Mr. BRADY.
+Waiter                    Mr. HEATH.
+Holdwell                  Mr. BENDER.
+                        { Mr. J. COOPER.
+Servants                { Mr. LOLLETT.
+
+
+
+ACT I.
+
+
+
+SCENE I.--A Tavern.
+
+
+On one side SIR THOMAS CLIFFORD, at a table, with wine before him;
+on the other, MASTER WILFORD, GAYLOVE, HOLDWELL, and SIMPSON,
+likewise taking wine.
+
+Wilf.  Your wine, sirs! your wine!  You do not justice to mine host
+of the Three Tuns, nor credit to yourselves; I swear the beverage is
+good!  It is as palatable poison as you will purchase within a mile
+round Ludgate!  Drink, gentlemen; make free.  You know I am a man of
+expectations; and hold my money as light as the purse in which I
+carry it.
+
+Gay.  We drink, Master Wilford.  Not a man of us has been chased as
+yet.
+
+Wilf.  But you fill not fairly, sirs!  Look at my measure!
+Wherefore a large glass, if not for a large draught?  Fill, I pray
+you, else let us drink out of thimbles!  This will never do for the
+friends of the nearest of kin to the wealthiest peer in Britain.
+
+Gay.  We give you joy, Master Wilford, of the prospect of
+advancement which has so unexpectedly opened to you.
+
+Wilf.  Unexpectedly indeed!  But yesterday arrived the news that the
+Earl's only son and heir had died; and to-day has the Earl himself
+been seized with a mortal illness.  His dissolution is looked for
+hourly; and I, his cousin in only the third degree, known to him but
+to be unnoticed by him--a decayed gentleman's son--glad of the title
+and revenues of a scrivener's clerk--am the undoubted successor to
+his estates and coronet.
+
+Gay.  Have you been sent for?
+
+Wilf.  No; but I have certified to his agent, Master Walter, the
+Hunchback, my existence, and peculiar propinquity; and momentarily
+expect him here.
+
+Gay.  Lives there anyone that may dispute your claim--I mean
+vexatiously?
+
+Wilf.  Not a man, Master Gaylove.  I am the sole remaining branch of
+the family tree.
+
+Gay.  Doubtless you look for much happiness from this change of
+fortune?
+
+Wilf.  A world!  Three things have I an especial passion for.  The
+finest hound, the finest horse, and the finest wife in the kingdom,
+Master Gaylove!
+
+Gay.  The finest wife?
+
+Wilf.  Yes, sir; I marry.  Once the earldom comes into my line, I
+shall take measures to perpetuate its remaining there.  I marry,
+sir!  I do not say that I shall love.  My heart has changed
+mistresses too often to settle down in one servitude now, sir.  But
+fill, I pray you, friends.  This, if I mistake not, is the day
+whence I shall date my new fortunes; and, for that reason, hither
+have I invited you, that, having been so long my boon companions,
+you shall be the first to congratulate me.
+
+[Enter Waiter]
+
+Waiter.  You are wanted, Master Wilford.
+
+Wilf.  By whom?
+
+Waiter.  One Master Walter.
+
+Wilf.  His lordship's agent!  News, sirs!  Show him in!
+
+[Waiter goes out]
+
+My heart's a prophet, sirs--The Earl is dead.
+
+[Enter MASTER WALTER]
+
+Well, Master Walter.  How accost you me?
+
+Wal.  As your impatience shows me you would have me.
+My Lord, the Earl of Rochdale!
+
+Gay.  Give you joy!
+
+Hold.  All happiness, my lord!
+
+Simp.  Long life and health unto your lordship!
+
+Gay.  Come!
+We'll drink to his lordship's health!  'Tis two o'clock,
+We'll e'en carouse till midnight!  Health, my lord!
+
+Hold.  My lord, much joy to you!
+
+Simp.  All good to your lordship!
+
+Wal.  Give something to the dead!
+
+Gay.  Give what?
+
+Wal.  Respect!
+He has made the living!  First to him that's gone,
+Say "Peace!"--and then with decency to revels!
+
+Gay.  What means the knave by revels?
+
+Wal.  Knave?
+
+Gay.  Ay, knave!
+
+Wal.  Go to!  Thou'rt flushed with wine!
+
+Gay.  Thou sayest false!
+Though didst thou need a proof thou speakest true,
+I'd give thee one.  Thou seest but one lord here,
+And I see two!
+
+Wal.  Reflect'st thou on my shape?
+Thou art a villain!
+
+Gay.  [Starting up.]  Ha!
+
+Wal.  A coward, too!
+Draw!
+
+[Drawing his sword.]
+
+Gay.  Only mark him! how he struts about!
+How laughs his straight sword at his noble back.
+
+Wal.  Does it?  It cuffs thee for a liar then!
+
+[Strikes GAYLOVE with his sword.]
+
+Gay.  A blow!
+
+Wal.  Another, lest you doubt the first!
+
+Gay.  His blood on his own head!  I'm for you, sir!
+
+[Draws.]
+
+Clif.  Hold, sir!  This quarrel's mine!
+
+[Coming forward and drawing.]
+
+Wal.  No man shall fight for me, sir!
+
+Clif.  By your leave,
+Your patience, pray!  My lord, for so I learn
+Behoves me to accost you--for your own sake
+Draw off your friend!
+
+Wal.  Not till we have a bout, sir!
+
+Clif.  My lord, your happy fortune ill you greet!
+Ill greet it those who love you--greeting thus
+The herald of it!
+
+Wal.  Sir, what's that to you?
+Let go my sleeve!
+
+Clif.  My lord, if blood be shed
+On the fair dawn of your prosperity,
+Look not to see the brightness of its day.
+'Twill be o'ercast throughout!
+
+Gay.  My lord, I'm struck!
+
+Clif.  You gave the first blow, and the hardest one!
+Look, sir; if swords you needs must measure, I'm
+Your mate, not he!
+
+Wal.  I'm mate for any man!
+
+Clif.  Draw off your friend, my lord, for your own sake!
+
+Wilf.  Come, Gaylove! let's have another room.
+
+Gay.  With all my heart, since 'tis your lordship's will.
+
+Wilf.  That's right!  Put up!  Come, friends!
+
+[WILFORD and Friends go out.]
+
+Wal.  I'll follow him!
+Why do you hold me?  'Tis not courteous of you!
+Think'st thou I fear them?  Fear!  I rate them but
+As dust! dross! offals!  Let me at them!--Nay,
+Call you this kind? then kindness know I not;
+Nor do I thank you for't!  Let go, I say!
+
+Clif.  Nay, Master Walter, they're not worth your wrath.
+
+Wal.  How know you me for Master Walter?  By
+My hunchback, eh!--my stilts of legs and arms,
+The fashion more of ape's than man's?  Aha!
+So you have heard them, too--their savage gibes
+As I pass on,--"There goes my lord!" aha!
+God made me, sir, as well as them and you.
+'Sdeath!  I demand of you, unhand me, sir!
+
+Clif.  There, sir, you're free to follow them!  Go forth,
+And I'll go too:  so on your wilfulness
+Shall fall whate'er of evil may ensue.
+Is't fit you waste your choler on a burr?
+The nothings of the town; whose sport it is
+To break their villain jests on worthy men,
+The graver still the fitter!  Fie for shame!
+Regard what such would say?  So would not I,
+No more than heed a cur.
+
+Wal.  You're right, sir; right,
+For twenty crowns!  So there's my rapier up!
+You've done me a good turn against my will;
+Which, like a wayward child, whose pet is off,
+That made him restive under wholesome check,
+I now right humbly own, and thank you for.
+
+Clif.  No thanks, good Master Walter, owe you me!
+I'm glad to know you, sir.
+
+Wal.  I pray you, now,
+How did you learn my name?  Guessed I not right?
+Was't not my comely hunch that taught it you?
+
+Clif.  I own it.
+
+Wal.  Right, I know it; you tell truth.  I like you for't.
+
+Clif.  But when I heard it said
+That Master Walter was a worthy man,
+Whose word would pass on 'change soon as his bond;
+A liberal man--for schemes of public good
+That sets down tens, where others units write;
+A charitable man--the good he does,
+That's told of, not the half; I never more
+Could see the hunch on Master Walter's back!
+
+Wal.  You would not flatter a poor citizen?
+
+Clif.  Indeed, I flatter not!
+
+Wal.  I like your face -
+A frank and honest one!  Your frame's well knit,
+Proportioned, shaped!
+
+Clif.  Good sir!
+
+Wal.  Your name is Clifford -
+Sir Thomas Clifford.  Humph!  You're not the heir
+Direct to the fair baronetcy?  He
+That was, was drowned abroad.  Am I not right?
+Your cousin, was't not?--so succeeded you
+To rank and wealth, your birth ne'er promised you.
+
+Clif.  I see you know my history.
+
+Wal.  I do.
+You're lucky who conjoin the benefits
+Of penury and abundance; for I know
+Your father was a man of slender means.
+You do not blush, I see.  That's right!  Why should you?
+What merit to be dropped on fortune's hill?
+The honour is to mount it.  You'd have done it;
+For you were trained to knowledge, industry,
+Frugality, and honesty,--the sinews
+That surest help the climber to the top,
+And keep him there.  I have a clerk, Sir Thomas,
+Once served your father; there's the riddle for you.
+Humph!  I may thank you for my life to-day.
+
+Clif.  I pray you say not so.
+
+Wal.  But I will say so!
+Because I think so, know so, feel so, sir!
+Your fortune, I have heard, I think, is ample!
+And doubtless you live up to't?
+
+Clif.  'Twas my rule,
+And is so still, to keep my outlay, sir,
+A span within my means.
+
+Wal.  A prudent rule!
+The turf is a seductive pastime!
+
+Clif.  Yes.
+
+Wal.  You keep a racing stud?  You bet?
+
+Clif.  No, neither.
+'Twas still my father's precept--"Better owe
+A yard of land to labour, than to chance
+Be debtor for a rood!"
+
+Wal.  'Twas a wise precept.
+You've a fair house--you'll get a mistress for it?
+
+Clif.  In time!
+
+Wal.  In time!  'Tis time thy choice were made.
+Is't not so yet?  Or is thy lady love
+The newest still thou seest?
+
+Clif.  Nay, not so.
+I'd marry, Master Walter, but old use -
+For since the age of thirteen I have lived
+In the world--has made me jealous of the thing
+That flattered me with hope of profit.  Bargains
+Another would snap up, might be for me:
+Till I had turned and turned them!  Speculations,
+That promised, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty,
+Ay, cent-per-cent. returns, I would not launch in,
+When others were afloat, and out at sea;
+Whereby I made small gains, but missed great losses.
+As ever, then, I looked before I leaped,
+So do I now.
+
+Wal.  Thou'rt all the better for it!
+Let's see!  Hand free--heart whole--well-favoured--so!
+Rich, titled!  Let that pass!--kind, valiant, prudent -
+Sir Thomas, I can help thee to a wife,
+Hast thou the luck to win her!
+
+Clif.  Master Walter!
+You jest!
+
+Wal.  I do not jest.  I like you! mark -
+I like you, and I like not everyone!
+I say a wife, sir, can I help you to,
+The pearly texture of whose dainty skin
+Alone were worth thy baronetcy!  Form
+And feature has she, wherein move and glow
+The charms, that in the marble, cold and still,
+Culled by the sculptor's jealous skill and joined there,
+Inspire us!  Sir, a maid, before whose feet,
+A duke--a duke might lay his coronet,
+To lift her to his state, and partner her!
+A fresh heart too!--a young fresh heart, sir; one
+That Cupid has not toyed with, and a warm one -
+Fresh, young, and warm! mark that! a mind to boot;
+Wit, sir; sense, taste;--a garden strictly tended -
+Where nought but what is costly flourishes!
+A consort for a king, sir!  Thou shalt see her!
+
+Clif.  I thank you, Master Walter!  As you speak,
+Methinks I see me at the altar-foot!
+Her hand fast locked in mine!--the ring put on!
+My wedding-bell rings merry in my ear;
+And round me throng glad tongues that give me joy
+To be the bridegroom of so fair a bride!
+
+Wal.  What! sparks so thick?  We'll have a blaze anon!
+
+Servant.  [Entering.]  The chariot's at the door.
+
+Wal.  It waits in time!
+Sir Thomas, it shall bear thee to the bower
+Where dwells this fair--for she's no city belle,
+But e'en a sylvan goddess!
+
+Clif.  Have with you!
+
+Wal.  You'll bless the day you served the Hunchback, sir!
+
+[They go out.]
+
+
+SCENE II.--A Garden before a Country House.
+
+
+[Enter JULIA and HELEN.]
+
+Helen.  I like not, Julia, this your country life.
+I'm weary on't!
+
+Julia.  Indeed?  So am not I!
+I know no other; would no other know!
+
+Helen.  You would no other know!  Would you not know
+Another relative?--another friend -
+Another house--another anything,
+Because the ones you have already please you?
+That's poor content!  Would you not be more rich,
+More wise, more fair?  The song that last you learned
+You fancy well; and therefore shall you learn
+No other song?  Your virginal, 'tis true,
+Hath a sweet tone; but does it follow thence,
+You shall not have another virginal?
+You may, love, and a sweeter one; and so
+A sweeter life may find than this you lead!
+
+Julia.  I seek it not.  Helen, I'm constancy!
+
+Helen.  So is a cat, a dog, a silly hen,
+An owl, a bat,--where they are wont to lodge
+That still sojourn, nor care to shift their quarters.
+Thou'rt constancy?  I am glad I know thy name!
+The spider comes of the same family,
+That in his meshy fortress spends his life,
+Unless you pull it down and scare him from it.
+And so thou'rt constancy?  Ar't proud of that?
+I'll warrant thee I'll match thee with a snail
+From year to year that never leaves his house!
+Such constancy forsooth!--a constant grub
+That houses ever in the self-same nut
+Where he was born, till hunger drives him out,
+Or plunder breaketh through his castle wall!
+And so, in very deed, thou'rt constancy!
+
+Julia.  Helen, you know the adage of the tree; -
+I've ta'en the bend.  This rural life of mine,
+Enjoined me by an unknown father's will,
+I've led from infancy.  Debarred from hope
+Of change, I ne'er have sighed for change.  The town
+To me was like the moon, for any thought
+I e'er should visit it--nor was I schooled
+To think it half so fair!
+
+Helen.  Not half so fair!
+The town's the sun, and thou hast dwelt in night
+E'er since thy birth, not to have seen the town!
+Their women there are queens, and kings their men;
+Their houses palaces!
+
+Julia.  And what of that?
+Have your town-palaces a hall like this?
+Couches so fragrant? walls so high-adorned?
+Casements with such festoons, such prospects, Helen,
+As these fair vistas have?  Your kings and queens!
+See me a May-day queen, and talk of them!
+
+Helen.  Extremes are ever neighbours.  'Tis a step
+From one to the other!  Were thy constancy
+A reasonable thing--a little less
+Of constancy--a woman's constancy -
+I should not wonder wert thou ten years hence
+The maid I know thee now; but, as it is,
+The odds are ten to one, that this day year
+Will see our May-day queen a city one!
+
+Julia.  Never!  I'm wedded to a country life:
+O, did you hear what Master Walter says!
+Nine times in ten the town's a hollow thing,
+Where what things are is nought to what they show;
+Where merit's name laughs merit's self to scorn!
+Where friendship and esteem that ought to be
+The tenants of men's hearts, lodge in their looks
+And tongues alone.  Where little virtue, with
+A costly keeper, passes for a heap;
+A heap for none that has a homely one!
+Where fashion makes the law--your umpire which
+You bow to, whether it has brains or not!
+Where Folly taketh off his cap and bells,
+To clap on Wisdom, which must bear the jest!
+Where to pass current you must seem the thing,
+The passive thing, that others think; and not
+Your simple, honest, independent self!
+
+Helen.  Ay:  so says Master Walter.  See I not
+What can you find in Master Walter, Julia,
+To be so fond of him!
+
+Julia.  He's fond of me!
+I've known him since I was a child.  E'en then,
+The week I thought a weary, heavy one,
+That brought not Master Walter.  I had those
+About me then that made a fool of me,
+As children oft are fooled; but more I loved
+Good Master Walter's lesson than the play
+With which they'd surfeit me.  As I grew up,
+More frequent Master Walter came, and more
+I loved to see him!  I had tutors then,
+Men of great skill and learning--but not one
+That taught like Master Walter.  What they'd show me,
+And I, dull as I was, but doubtful saw, -
+A word from Master Walter made as clear
+As daylight!  When my schooling days were o'er -
+That's now good three years past--three years--I vow
+I'm twenty, Helen!--well, as I was saying,
+When I had done with school, and all were gone,
+Still Master Walter came! and still he comes,
+Summer or winter--frost or rain!  I've seen
+The snow upon a level with the hedge,
+Yet there was Master Walter!
+
+Helen.  Who comes here?
+A carriage, and a gay one--who alights?
+Pshaw!  Only Master Walter!  What see you,
+Which thus repairs the arch of the fair brow,
+A frown was like to spoil?--A gentleman!
+One of our town kings!  Mark!--How say you now?
+Wouldst be a town queen, Julia?  Which of us,
+I wonder, comes he for?
+
+Julia.  For neither of us;
+He's Master Walter's clerk, most like.
+
+Helen.  Most like!
+Mark him as he comes up the avenue;
+So looks a clerk!  A clerk has such a gait!
+So does a clerk dress, Julia!--mind his hose -
+They're very like a clerk's! a diamond loop
+And button, note you, for his clerkship's hat, -
+O, certainly a clerk!  A velvet cloak,
+Jerkin of silk, and doublet of the same, -
+For all the world a clerk!  See, Julia, see,
+How Master Walter bows, and yields him place,
+That he may first go in--a very clerk!
+I'll learn of thee, love, when I'd know a clerk!
+
+Julia.  I wonder who he is!
+
+Helen.  Wouldst like to know?
+Wouldst for a fancy ride to town with him?
+I prophesy he comes to take thee thither!
+
+Julia.  He ne'er takes me to town!  No, Helen, no!
+To town who will, a country life for me!
+
+Helen.  We'll see!
+
+[Enter FATHOM.]
+
+Fath.  You're wanted, madam.
+
+Julia.  [Embarrassed.]  Which of us?
+
+Fath.  You, madam.
+
+Helen.  Julia! what's the matter?  Nay,
+Mount not the rose so soon!  He must not see it
+A month hence.  'Tis loves flower, which once she wears,
+The maid is all his own.
+
+Julia.  Go to!
+
+Helen.  Be sure
+He comes to woo thee!  He will bear thee hence;
+He'll make thee change the country for the town.
+
+Julia.  I'm constancy.  Name he the town to me,
+I'll tell what I think on't!
+
+Helen.  Then you guess
+He comes a wooing?
+
+Julia.  I guess nought.
+
+Helen.  You do!
+At your grave words, your lips, more honest, smile,
+And show them to be traitors.  Hie to him.
+
+Julia.  Hie thee to soberness.
+
+[Goes out.]
+
+Helen.  Ay, will I, when,
+Thy bridemaid, I shall hie to church with thee.
+Well, Fathom, who is come?
+
+Fath.  I know not.
+
+Helen.  What!  Didst thou not hear his name?
+
+Fath.  I did.
+
+Helen.  What is't?
+
+Fath.  I noted not.
+
+Helen.  What hast thou ears for, then?
+
+Fath.  What good were it for me to mind his name?
+I do but what I must do.  To do that
+Is labour quite enough!
+
+Wal.  [Without.]  What, Fathom!
+
+Fath.  Here.
+
+Wal.  [Entering.]  Here, sirrah!  Wherefore didst not come to me?
+
+Fath.  You did not bid me come.
+
+Wal.  I called thee.
+
+Fath.  Yes.
+And I said "Here;" and waited then to know
+Your worship's will with me.
+
+Wal.  We go to town.
+Thy mistress, thou, and all the house.
+
+Fath.  Well, sir?
+
+Wal.  Mak'st thou not ready then to go to town?
+Hence, knave, despatch!
+
+[FATHOM goes out.]
+
+Helen.  Go we to town?
+
+Wal.  We do;
+'Tis now her father's will she sees the town.
+
+Helen.  I'm glad on't.  Goes she to her father?
+
+Wal.  No:
+At the desire of thine she for a term shares roof with thee.
+
+Helen.  I'm very glad on't.
+
+Wal.  What!
+You like her, then?  I thought you would.  'Tis time
+She sees the town.
+
+Helen.  It has been time for that
+These six years.
+
+Wal.  By thy wisdom's count.  No doubt
+You've told her what a precious place it is.
+
+Helen.  I have.
+
+Wal.  I even guessed as much.  For that
+I told thee of her; brought thee here to see her;
+And prayed thee to sojourn a space with her;
+That its fair space, from thy too fair report,
+Might strike a novice less--so less deceive her.
+I did not put thee under check.
+
+Helen.  'Twas right, -
+Else had I broken loose, and run the wilder!
+So knows she not her father yet:  that's strange.
+I prithee how does mine?
+
+Wal.  Well--very well.
+News for thee.
+
+Helen.  What?
+
+Wal.  Thy cousin is in town.
+
+Helen.  My cousin Modus?
+
+Wal.  Much do I suspect
+That cousin's nearer to thy heart than blood.
+
+Helen.  Pshaw!  Wed me to a musty library!
+Love him who nothing loves but Greek and Latin!
+But, Master Walter, you forget the main
+Surpassing point of all!  Who's come with you?
+
+Wal.  Ay, that's the question!
+
+Helen.  Is he soldier or
+Civilian? lord or gentleman?  He's rich,
+If that's his chariot!  Where is his estate?
+What brings it in?  Six thousand pounds a year?
+Twelve thousand, may be!  Is he bachelor,
+Or husband?  Bachelor I'm sure he is
+Comes he not hither wooing, Master Walter?
+Nay, prithee, answer me!
+
+Wal.  Who says thy sex
+Are curious?  That they're patient, I'll be sworn;
+And reasonable--very reasonable -
+To look for twenty answers in a breath!
+Come, thou shalt be enlightened--but propound
+Thy questions one by one!  Thou'rt far too apt
+A scholar!  My ability to teach
+Will ne'er keep pace, I fear, with thine to learn.
+
+[They go out.]
+
+
+SCENE III.--An Apartment in the House.
+
+
+[Enter JULIA, followed by CLIFFORD.]
+
+Julia.  No more!  I pray you, sir, no more!
+
+Clif.  I love you!
+
+Julia.  You mock me, sir!
+
+Clif.  Then is there no such thing
+On earth as reverence; honour filial, the fear
+Of kings, the awe of supreme heaven itself,
+Are only shows and sounds that stand for nothing.
+I love you!
+
+Julia.  You have known me scarce a minute!
+
+Clif.  Say but a moment, still I say I love you!
+Love's not a flower that grows on the dull earth;
+Springs by the calendar; must wait for the sun -
+For rain;--matures by parts;--must take its time
+To stem, to leaf, to bud, to blow.  It owns
+A richer soil, and boasts a quicker seed!
+You look for it, and see it not; and lo!
+E'en while you look, the peerless flower is up.
+Consummate in the birth!
+
+Julia.  Is't fear I feel?
+Why else should beat my heart?  It can't be fear!
+Something I needs must say.  You're from the town;
+How comes it, sir, you seek a country wife?
+Methinks 'twill tax his wit to answer that.
+
+Clif.  In joining contrasts lieth love's delight.
+Complexion, stature, nature, mateth it,
+Not with their kinds, but with their opposites.
+Hence hands of snow in palms of russet lie;
+The form of Hercules affects the sylph's;
+And breasts, that case the lion's fear-proof heart,
+Find their meet lodge in arms where tremors dwell!
+Haply for this, on Afric's swarthy neck,
+Hath Europe's priceless pearl been seen to hang,
+That makes the orient poor!  So with degrees,
+Rank passes by the circlet-graced brow,
+Upon the forehead, bare, of notelessness
+To print the nuptial kiss.  As with degrees
+So is't with habits; therefore I, indeed
+A gallant of the town, the town forsake,
+To win a country wife.
+
+Julia.  His prompt reply
+My backward challenge shames!  Must I give o'er?
+I'll try his wit again.  Who marries me
+Must lead a country life.
+
+Clif.  The life I'd lead!
+But fools would fly from it; for O! 'tis sweet!
+It finds the heart out, be there one to find;
+And corners in't where store of pleasures lodge,
+We never dreamed were there!  It is to dwell
+'Mid smiles that are not neighbours to deceit;
+Music, whose melody is of the heart;
+And gifts, that are not made for interest, -
+Abundantly bestowed by Nature's cheek,
+And voice, and hand!  It is to live on life,
+And husband it!  It is to constant scan
+The handiwork of Heaven.  It is to con
+Its mercy, bounty, wisdom, power!  It is
+To nearer see our God!
+
+Julia.  How like he talks
+To Master Walter!  Shall I give it o'er?
+Not yet.  Thou wouldst not live one half a year!
+A quarter mightst thou for the novelty
+Of fields and trees; but then it needs must be
+In summer time, when they go dressed.
+
+Clif.  Not it!
+In any time--say winter!  Fields and trees
+Have charms for me in very winter time.
+
+Julia.  But snow may clothe them then.
+
+Clif.  I like them full
+As well in snow!
+
+Julia.  You do?
+
+Clif.  I do.
+
+Julia.  But night
+Will hide both snow and them, and that sets in
+Ere afternoon is out.  A heavy thing,
+A country fireside in a winter's night,
+To one bred in the town,--where winter's said,
+For sun of gaiety and sportiveness,
+To beggar shining summer.
+
+Clif.  I should like
+A country winter's night especially!
+
+Julia.  You'd sleep by the fire.
+
+Clif.  Not I; I'd talk to thee.
+
+Julia.  You'd tire of that!
+
+Clif.  I'd read to thee.
+
+Julia.  And that!
+
+Clif.  I'd talk to thee again.
+
+Julia.  And sooner tire
+Than first you did, and fall asleep at last.
+You'd never do to lead a country life.
+
+Clif.  You deal too harshly with me!  Matchless maid,
+As loved instructor brightens dullest wit,
+Fear not to undertake the charge of me!
+A willing pupil kneels to thee, and lays
+His title and his fortune at your feet.
+
+Julia.  His title and his fortune!
+
+[Enter MASTER WALTER and HELEN.--JULIA, disconcerted, retires with
+the latter.--CLIFFORD rises.]
+
+Wal.  So, Sir Thomas!
+Aha! you husband time!  Well, was I right?
+Is't not the jewel that I told you 'twas?
+Wouldst thou not give thine eyes to wear it?  Eh?
+It has an owner, though,--nay, start not,--one
+That may be bought to part with't, and with whom
+I'll stand thy friend--I will--I say, I will!
+A strange man, sir, and unaccountable:
+But I can humour him--will humour him
+For thy sake, good Sir Thomas; for I like thee.
+Well, is't a bargain?  Come, thy hand upon it.
+A word or two with thee.
+
+[They retire.  JULIA and HELEN come forward.]
+
+Julia.  Go up to town!
+
+Helen.  Have I not said it ten times o'er to thee?
+But if thou likest it not, protest against it.
+
+Julia.  Not if 'tis Master Walter's will.
+
+Helen.  What then?
+Thou wouldst not break thy heart for Master Walter?
+
+Julia.  That follows not!
+
+Helen.  What follows not?
+
+Julia.  That I
+Should break my heart, because we go to town.
+
+Helen.  Indeed?--Oh, that's another matter.  Well,
+I'd e'en advise thee then to do his will;
+And, ever after, when I prophesy,
+Believe me, Julia!
+
+[They retire.  MASTER WALTER comes forward.]
+
+[Enter FATHOM.]
+
+Fath.  So please you, sir, a letter,--a post-haste letter!  The
+bearer on horseback, the horse in a foam--smoking like a boiler at
+the heat--be sure a posthaste letter!
+
+Wal.  Look to the horse and rider.
+
+[Opens the letter and reads.]
+
+What's this?  A testament addressed to me,
+Found in his lordship's escritoire, and thence
+Directed to be taken by no hand
+But mine.  My presence instantly required.
+
+[SIR THOMAS, JULIA, and HELEN come forward.]
+
+Come, my mistresses,
+You dine in town to-day.  Your father's will,
+It is, my Julia, that you see the world;
+And thou shalt see it in its best attire.
+Its gayest looks--its richest finery
+It shall put on for thee, that thou may'st judge
+Betwixt it, and this rural life you've lived.
+Business of moment I'm but thus advised of,
+Touching the will of my late noble master,
+The Earl of Rochdale, recently deceased,
+Commands me for a time to leave thee there.
+Sir Thomas, hand her to the chariot.  Nay,
+I tell thee true.  We go indeed to town!
+
+[They go out.]
+
+
+
+ACT II.
+
+
+
+SCENE I.--An Apartment in Master Heartwell's House.
+
+
+[Enter FATHOM and THOMAS.]
+
+Thos.  Well, Fathom, is thy mistress up?
+
+Fath.  She is, Master Thomas, and breakfasted.
+
+Thos.  She stands it well!  'Twas five, you say, when she came home;
+and wants it now three-quarters of an hour of ten?  Wait till her
+stock of country health is out.
+
+Fath.  'Twill come to that, Master Thomas, before she lives another
+month in town! three, four, five six o'clock are now the hours she
+keeps.  'Twas otherwise with her in the country.  There, my mistress
+used to rise what time she now lies down.
+
+Thos.  Why, yes; she's changed since she came hither.
+
+Fath.  Changed, do you say, Master Thomas?  Changed, forsooth!  I
+know not the thing in which she is not changed, saving that she is
+still a woman.  I tell thee there is no keeping pace with her moods.
+In the country she had none of them.  When I brought what she asked
+for, it was "Thank you, Fathom," and no more to do; but now, nothing
+contents her.  Hark ye! were you a gentleman, Master Thomas,--for
+then you know you would be a different kind of man,--how many times
+would you have your coat altered?
+
+Thos.  Why, Master Fathom, as many times as it would take to make it
+fit me.
+
+Fath.  Good!  But, supposing it fitted thee at the first?
+
+Thos.  Then would I have it altered not at all.
+
+Fath.  Good!  Thou wouldst be a reasonable gentleman.  Thou wouldst
+have a conscience.  Now hark to a tale about my lady's last gown.
+How many times, think you, took I it back to the sempstress?
+
+Thos.  Thrice, may be.
+
+Fath.  Thrice, may be!  Twenty times, may be; and not a turn too
+many, for the truth on't.  Twenty times, on the oath of the
+sempstress.  Now mark me--can you count?
+
+Thos.  After a fashion.
+
+Fath.  You have much to be thankful for, Master Thomas.  You London
+serving-men have a world of things, which we in the country never
+dream of.  Now mark:- Four times took I it back for the flounce;
+twice for the sleeves; three for the tucker--How many times in all
+is that?
+
+Thos.  Eight times to a fraction, Master Fathom.
+
+Fath.  What a master of figures you are!  Eight times--now recollect
+that!  And then found she fault with the trimmings.  Now tell me,
+how many times took I back the gown for the trimmings?
+
+Thos.  Eight times more, perhaps!
+
+Fath.  Ten times to a certainty.  How many times makes that?
+
+Thos.  Eighteen, Master Fathom, by the rule of addition.
+
+Fath.  And how many times more will make twenty?
+
+Thee.  Twice, by the same rule.
+
+Fath.  Thou hast worked with thy pencil and slate, Master Thomas!
+Well, ten times, as I said, took I back the gown for the trimmings;
+and was she content after all?  I warrant you no, or my ears did not
+pay for it.  She wished, she said, that the slattern sempstress had
+not touched the gown, for nought had she done but botched it.  Now
+what think you had the sempstress done to the gown?
+
+Thos.  To surmise that, I must be learned in the sempstress's art.
+
+Fath.  The sempstress's art!  Thou hast hit it!  Oh, the sweet
+sempstress! the excellent sempstress!  Mistress of her scissors and
+needles, which are pointless and edgeless to her art!  The
+sempstress had done nothing to the gown; yet raves and storms my
+mistress at her for having botched it in the making and mending; and
+orders her straight to make another one, which home the sempstress
+brings on Tuesday last.
+
+Thos.  And found thy fair mistress as many faults with that?
+
+Fath.  Not one!  She finds it a very pattern of a gown!  A well-
+sitting flounce!  The sleeves a fit--the tucker a fit--the trimmings
+her fancy to a T--ha! ha! ha! and she praised the sempstress--ha!
+ha! ha! and she smiles at me, and I smile--ha! ha! ha! and the
+sempstress smiles--ha! ha! ha!  Now, why did the sempstress smile?
+
+Thos.  That she had succeeded so well in her art.
+
+Fath.  Thou hast hit it again!  The jade must have been born a
+sempstress!  If ever I marry, she shall work for my wife.  The gown
+was the same gown, and there was my mistress's twentieth mood!
+
+Thos.  What think you will Master Walter say when he comes back?  I
+fear he'll hardly know his country maid again.  Has she yet fixed
+her wedding-day?
+
+Fath.  She has, Master Thomas.  I coaxed it from her maid.  She
+marries, Monday week.
+
+Thos.  Comes not Master Walter back to-day?
+
+Fath.  Your master expects him.  [A ringing.]  Perhaps that's he.  I
+prithee go and open the door; do, Master Thomas, do; for proves it
+my master, he'll surely question me.
+
+Thos.  And what should I do?
+
+Fath.  Answer him, Master Thomas, and make him none the wiser.
+He'll go mad, when he learns how my lady flaunts it!  Go! open the
+door, I prithee.  Fifty things, Master Thomas, know you, for one
+thing that I know!  You can turn and twist a matter into any other
+kind of matter; and then twist and turn it back again, if needs be;
+so much you servants of the town beat us of the country, Master
+Thomas.  Open the door, now; do, Master Thomas, do!
+
+[They go out.]
+
+
+SCENE II.--A Garden with two Arbours.
+
+
+[Enter MASTER HEARTWELL and MASTER WALTER meeting.]
+
+Heart.  Good Master Walter, welcome back again!
+
+Wal.  I'm glad to see you, Master Heartwell!
+
+Heart.  How,
+I pray you, sped the mighty business which
+So sudden called you hence?
+
+Wal.  Weighty, indeed!
+What thou wouldst ne'er expect--wilt scarce believe!
+Long-hidden wrong, wondrously come to light,
+And great right done!  But more of this anon.
+Now of my ward discourse!  Likes she the town?
+How does she?  Is she well?  Canst match me her
+Among your city maids?
+
+Heart.  Nor court ones neither!
+She far outstrips them all!
+
+Wal.  I knew she would.
+What else could follow in a maid so bred?
+A pure mind, Master Heartwell!--not a taint
+From intercourse with the distempered town;
+With which all contact was walled out, until,
+Matured in soundness, I could trust her to it,
+And sleep amidst infection!
+
+Heart.  Master Walter!
+
+Wal.  Well?
+
+Heart.  Tell me, prithee, which is likelier
+To plough a sea in safety?--he that's wont
+To sail in it,--or he that by the chart
+Is master of its soundings, bearings,--knows
+Is headlands, havens, currents--where 'tis bold,
+And where behoves to keep a good look-out.
+The one will swim, where sinks the other one?
+
+Wal.  The drift of this?
+
+Heart.  Do you not guess it?
+
+Wal.  Humph!
+
+Heart.  If you would train a maid to live in town,
+Breed her not in the country!
+
+Wal.  Say you so?
+And stands she not the test?
+
+Heart.  As snow stands fire!
+Your country maid has melted all away,
+And plays the city lady to the height;
+Her mornings gives to mercers, milliners,
+Shoemakers, jewellers, and haberdashers;
+Her noons, to calls; her afternoons, to dressing;
+Evenings, to plays and drums; and nights, to routs,
+Balls, masquerades!  Sleep only ends the riot,
+Which waking still begins!
+
+Wal.  I'm all amaze!
+How bears Sir Thomas this?
+
+Heart.  Why, patiently;
+Though one can see with pain.
+
+Wal.  She loves him?  Ha!
+That shrug is doubt!  She'd ne'er consent to wed him
+Unless she loved him!--never!  Her young fancy
+The pleasures of the town--new things--have caught,
+Anon their hold will slacken; she'll become
+Her former self again; to its old train
+Of sober feelings will her heart return;
+And then she'll give it wholly to the man
+Her virgin wishes chose!
+
+Heart.  Here comes Sir Thomas;
+And with him Master Modus.
+
+Wal.  Let them pass:
+I would not see him till I speak with her.
+
+[They retire into one of the Arbours.]
+
+[Enter CLIFFORD and MODUS.]
+
+Clif.  A dreadful question is it, when we love,
+To ask if love's returned!  I did believe
+Fair Julia's heart was mine--I doubt it now!
+But once last night she danced with me, her hand,
+To this gallant and that engaged, as soon
+As asked for?  Maid that loved would scarce do this?
+Nor visit we together as we used,
+When first she came to town.  She loves me less
+Than once she did--or loves me not at all.
+
+Mod.  I'm little skilled, Sir Thomas, in the world:
+What mean you now to do?
+
+Clif.  Remonstrate with her;
+Come to an understanding, and, at once,
+If she repents her promise to be mine,
+Absolve her from it--and say farewell to her.
+
+Mod.  Lo, then, your opportunity--she comes -
+My cousin also: --her will I engage,
+Whilst you converse together.
+
+Clif.  Nay, not yet!
+My heart turns coward at the sight of her.
+Stay till it finds new courage!  Let them pass.
+
+[CLIFFORD and MODUS retire into the other Arbour.]
+
+[Enter JULIA and HELEN.]
+
+Helen.  So, Monday week will say good morn to thee
+A maid, and bid good night a sober wife!
+
+Julia.  That Monday week, I trust, will never come,
+That brags to make a sober wife of me!
+
+Helen.  How changed you are, my Julia!
+
+Julia.  Change makes change.
+
+Helen.  Why wedd'st thou, then?
+
+Julia.  Because I promised him!
+
+Helen.  Thou lovest him?
+
+Julia.  Do I?
+
+Helen.  He's a man to love!
+A right well-favoured man!
+
+Julia.  Your point's well favoured.
+Where did you purchase it?  In Gracechurch Street?
+
+Helen.  Pshaw! never mind my point, but talk of him.
+
+Julia.  I'd rather talk with thee about the lace.
+Where bought you it?  In Gracechurch Street, Cheapside,
+Whitechapel, Little Britain?  Can't you say
+Where 'twas you bought the lace?
+
+Helen.  In Cheapside, then.
+And now, then, to Sir Thomas!  He is just
+The height I like a man.
+
+Julia.  Thy feather's just
+The height I like a feather!  Mine's too short!
+What shall I give thee in exchange for it?
+
+Helen.  What shall I give thee for a minute's talk
+About Sir Thomas?
+
+Julia.  Why, thy feather.
+
+Helen.  Take it!
+
+Clif.  [Aside to Modus.]  What, likes she not to speak of me?
+
+Helen.  And now
+Let's talk about Sir Thomas--much I'm sure
+He loves you.
+
+Julia.  Much I'm sure, he has a right!
+Those know I who would give their eyes to be
+Sir Thomas, for my sake!
+
+Helen.  Such too, know I.
+But 'mong them none that can compare with him,
+Not one so graceful.
+
+Julia.  What a graceful set
+Your feather has!
+
+Helen.  Nay, give it back to me,
+Unless you pay me for't.
+
+Julia.  What was't to get?
+
+Helen.  A minute's talk with thee about Sir Thomas.
+
+Julia.  Talk of his title, and his fortune then.
+
+Clif.  [Aside.]  Indeed!  I would not listen, yet I must!
+
+Julia.  An ample fortune, Helen--I shall be
+A happy wife!  What routs, what balls, what masques,
+What gala-days!
+
+Clif.  [Aside.]  For these she marries me!
+She'll talk of these!
+
+Julia.  Think not, when I am wed,
+I'll keep the house as owlet does her tower,
+Alone,--when every other bird's on wing.
+I'll use my palfrey, Helen; and my coach;
+My barge, too, for excursion on the Thames:
+What drives to Barnet, Hackney, Islington!
+What rides to Epping, Hounslow, and Blackheath!
+What sails to Greenwich, Woolwich, Fulham, Kew!
+I'll set a pattern to your lady wives!
+
+Clif.  [Aside.]  Ay, lady?  Trust me, not at my expense.
+
+Julia.  And what a wardrobe!  I'll have change of suits
+For every day in the year! and sets for days!
+My morning dress, my noon dress, dinner dress,
+And evening dress!  Then will I show you lace
+A foot deep, can I purchase; if not,
+I'll specially bespeak it.  Diamonds too!
+Not buckles, rings, and earrings only--but
+Whole necklaces and stomachers of gems!
+I'll shine! be sure I will.
+
+Clif.  [Aside.]  Then shine away;
+Who covets thee may wear thee;--I'm not he!
+
+Julia.  And then my title!  Soon as I put on
+The ring, I'm Lady Clifford.  So I take
+Precedence of plain mistress, were she e'en
+The richest heiress in the land!  At town
+Or country ball, you'll see me take the lead,
+While wives that carry on their backs the wealth
+To dower a princess, shall give place to me; -
+Will I not profit, think you, by my right?
+Be sure I will! marriage shall prove to me
+A never-ending pageant.  Every day
+Shall show how I am spoused!  I will be known
+For Lady Clifford all the city through,
+And fifty miles the country round about.
+Wife of Sir Thomas Clifford, baronet -
+Not perishable knight--who, when he makes
+A lady of me, doubtless must expect
+To see me play the part of one.
+
+Clif.  [Coming forward.]  Most true;
+But not the part which you design to play.
+
+Julia.  A listener, sir!
+
+Clif.  By chance, and not intent,
+Your speech was forced upon mine ear, that ne'er
+More thankless duty to my heart discharged!
+Would for that heart it ne'er had known the sense
+Which tells it 'tis a bankrupt, there, where most
+It coveted to be rich, and thought it was so!
+O Julia, is it you?  Could I have set
+A coronet upon that stately brow,
+Where partial nature hath already bound
+A brighter circlet--radiant beauty's own -
+I had been proud to see thee proud of it,
+So for the donor thou hadst ta'en the gift,
+Not for the gift ta'en him.  Could I have poured
+The wealth of richest Croesus in thy lap,
+I had been blest to see thee scatter it,
+So I was still thy riches paramount!
+
+Julia.  Know you me, sir!
+
+Clif.  I do.  On Monday week
+We were to wed--and are--so you're content;
+The day that weds, wives you to be widowed.  Take
+The privilege of my wife; be Lady Clifford!
+Outshine the title in the wearing on't!
+My coffers, lands, all are at thy command;
+Wear all! but, for myself, she wears not me,
+Although the coveted of every eye,
+Who would not wear me for myself alone.
+
+Julia.  And do you carry it so proudly, sir?
+
+Clif.  Proudly, but still more sorrowfully, lady!
+I'll lead thee to the church on Monday week.
+Till then, farewell and then, farewell for ever!
+O Julia, I have ventured for thy love,
+As the bold merchant, who, for only hope
+Of some rich gain, all former gains will risk.
+Before I asked a portion of thy heart,
+I perilled all my own; and now, all's lost!
+
+[CLIFFORD and MODUS go out.]
+
+Julia.  Helen!
+
+Helen.  What ails you, sweet?
+
+Julia.  I cannot breathe--quick, loose my girdle, oh!
+
+[Faints.]
+
+[MASTER WALTER and MASTER HEARTWELL come forward.]
+
+Wal.  Good Master Heartwell, help to take her in,
+Whilst I make after him! and look to her!
+Unlucky chance that took me out of town!
+
+[They go out severally.]
+
+
+SCENE III.--The Street.
+
+
+[Enter CLIFFORD and STEPHEN, meeting.]
+
+Ste.  Letters, Sir Thomas.
+
+Clif.  Take them home again,
+I shall not read them now.
+
+Ste.  Your pardon, sir,
+But here is one directed strangely.
+
+Clif.  How?
+
+Ste.  "To Master Clifford, gentleman, now styled
+Sir Thomas Clifford, baronet."
+
+Clif.  Indeed!
+Whence comes that letter?
+
+Ste.  From abroad.
+
+Clif.  Which is it?
+
+Ste.  So please you, this, Sir Thomas.
+
+Clif.  Give it me.
+
+Ste.  That letter brings not news to wish him joy upon.  If he was
+disturbed before, which I guessed by his looks he was, he is not
+more at ease now.  His hand to his head!  A most unwelcome letter!
+If it brings him news of disaster, fortune does not give him his
+deserts; for never waited servant upon a kinder master.
+
+Clif.  Stephen!
+
+Ste.  Sir Thomas!
+
+Clif.  From my door remove
+The plate that bears my name.
+
+Ste.  The plate, Sir Thomas!
+
+Clif.  The plate--collect my servants and instruct them
+To make out each their claims, unto the end
+Of their respective terms, and give them in
+To my steward.  Him and them apprise, good fellow,
+That I keep house no more.  As you go home,
+Call at my coachmaker's and bid him stop
+The carriage I bespoke.  The one I have
+Send with my horses to the mart whereat
+Such things are sold by auction.  They're for sale;
+Pack up my wardrobe, have my trunks conveyed
+To the inn in the next street; and when that's done,
+Go round my tradesmen and collect their bills,
+And bring them to me at the inn.
+
+Ste.  The inn!
+
+Clif.  Yes; I go home no more.  Why, what's the matter?
+What has fallen out to make your eyes fill up?
+You'll get another place.  I'll certify
+You're honest and industrious, and all
+That a servant ought to be.
+
+Ste.  I see, Sir Thomas,
+Some great misfortune has befallen you?
+
+Clif.  No!
+I have health; I have strength; my reason, Stephen, and
+A heart that's clear in truth, with trust in God.
+No great disaster can befall the man
+Who's still possessed of these!  Good fellow, leave me.
+What you would learn, and have a right to know,
+I would not tell you now.  Good Stephen, hence!
+Mischance has fallen on me--but what of that?
+Mischance has fallen on many a better man.
+I prithee leave me.  I grow sadder while
+I see the eye with which you view my grief.
+'Sdeath, they will out!  I would have been a man,
+Had you been less a kind and gentle one.
+Now, as you love me, leave me.
+
+Ste.  Never master
+So well deserved the love of him that served him.
+
+[STEPHEN goes out.]
+
+Clif.  Misfortune liketh company; it seldom
+Visits its friends alone.  Ha!  Master Walter,
+And ruffled too.  I'm in no mood for him.
+
+[Enter MASTER WALTER.]
+
+Wal.  So, Sir--Sir Thomas Clifford! what with speed
+And choler--I do gasp for want of breath.
+
+Clif.  Well, Master Walter?
+
+Wal.  You're a rash young man, sir;
+Strong-headed and wrong-headed, and I fear, sir,
+Not over delicate in that fine sense
+Which men of honour pride themselves upon!
+
+Clif.  Well, Master Walter?
+
+Wal.  A young woman's heart, sir,
+Is not a stone to carve a posy on!
+Which knows not what is writ on't; which you may buy,
+Exchange, or sell, sir, keep or give away, sir:
+It is a richer--yet a poorer thing;
+Priceless to him that owns and prizes it;
+Worthless, when owned, not prized; which makes the man
+That covets it, obtains it, and discards it -
+A fool, if not a villain, sir.
+
+Clif.  Well, sir?
+
+Wal.  You never loved my ward, sir!
+
+Clif.  The bright Heavens
+Bear witness that I did!
+
+Wal.  The bright Heavens, sir,
+Bear not false witness.  That you loved her not
+Is clear--for had you loved her, you'd have plucked
+Your heart from out your breast, ere cast her from your heart!
+Old as I am, I know what passion is.
+It is the summer's heat, sir, which in vain
+We look for frost in.  Ice, like you, sir, knows
+But little of such heat!  We are wronged, sir, wronged!
+You wear a sword, and so do I.
+
+Clif.  Well, sir!
+
+Wal.  You know the use, sir, of a sword?
+
+Clif.  I do.
+To whip a knave, sir, or an honest man!
+A wise man or a fool--atone for wrong,
+Or double the amount on't!  Master Walter,
+Touching your ward, if wrong is done, I think
+On my side lies the grievance.  I would not say so
+Did I not think so.  As for love--look, sir,
+That hand's a widower's, to its first mate sworn
+To clasp no second one.  As for amends, sir,
+You're free to get them from a man in whom
+You've been forestalled by fortune, for the spite
+Which she has vented on him, if you still
+Esteem him worth your anger.  Please you read
+That letter.  Now, sir, judge if life is dear
+To one so much a loser.
+
+Wal.  What, all gone!
+Thy cousin living they reported dead!
+
+Clif.  Title and land, sir, unto which add love!
+All gone, save life and honour, which, ere I'll lose,
+I'll let the other go.
+
+Wal.  We're public here,
+And may be interrupted.  Let us seek
+Some spot of privacy.  Your letter, sir.
+
+[Gives it back.]
+
+Though fortune slights you, I'll not slight you; not
+Your title or the lack of it I heed.
+Whether upon the score of love or hate,
+With you and you alone I settle, sir.
+We've gone too far.  'Twere folly now to part
+Without a reckoning.
+
+Clif.  Just as you please.
+
+Wal.  You've done
+A noble lady wrong.
+
+Clif.  That lady, sir,
+Has done me wrong.
+
+Wal.  Go to, thou art a boy
+Fit to be trusted with a plaything, not
+A woman's heart.  Thou knowest not what it is!
+And that I'll prove to thee, soon as we find
+Convenient place.  Come on, sir! you shall get
+A lesson that shall serve you for the rest
+Of your life.  I'll make you own her, sir, a piece
+Of Nature's handiwork, as costly, free
+From bias, flaw, and fair, as ever yet
+Her cunning hand turned out.  Come on, sir! come!
+
+[They go out.]
+
+
+
+ACT III.
+
+
+
+SCENE I.--A Drawing-room.
+
+
+[ENTER LORD TINSEL and the EARL OF ROCHDALE.]
+
+Tin.  Refuse a lord!  A saucy lady this.
+I scarce can credit it.
+
+Roch.  She'll change her mind.
+My agent, Master Walter, is her guardian.
+
+Tin.  How can you keep that Hunchback in his office?
+He mocks you.
+
+Roch.  He is useful.  Never heed him.
+My offer now do I present through him.
+He has the title-deeds of my estates,
+She'll listen to their wooing.  I must have her.
+Not that I love her, but that all allow
+She's fairest of the fair.
+
+Tin.  Distinguished well!
+'Twere most unseemly for a lord to love! -
+Leave that to commoners!  'Tis vulgar--she's
+Betrothed, you tell me, to Sir Thomas Clifford?
+
+Roch.  Yes.
+
+Tin.  That a commoner should thwart a lord!
+Yet not a commoner.  A baronet
+Is fish and flesh.  Nine parts plebeian, and
+Patrician in the tenth.  Sir Thomas Clifford!
+A man, they say, of brains!  I abhor brains
+As I do tools:  they're things mechanical.
+So far are we above our forefathers
+They to their brains did owe their titles, as
+Do lawyers, doctors.  We to nothing owe them,
+Which makes us far the nobler.
+
+Roch.  Is it so?
+
+Tin.  Believe me.  You shall profit by my training;
+You grow a lord apace.  I saw you meet
+A bevy of your former friends, who fain
+Had shaken hands with you.  You gave them fingers!
+You're now another man.  Your house is changed -
+Your table changed--your retinue--your horse -
+Where once you rode a hack, you now back blood; -
+Befits it, then, you also change your friends!
+
+[Enter WILLIAMS.]
+
+Will.  A gentleman would see your lordship.
+
+Tin.  Sir!
+What's that?
+
+Will.  A gentleman would see his lordship.
+
+Tin.  How know you, sir, his lordship is at home?
+Is he at home because he goes not out?
+He's not at home, though there you see him, sir;
+Unless he certify that he's at home!
+Bring up the name of the gentleman, and then
+Your lord will know if he's at home or not.
+
+[WILLIAMS goes out.]
+
+Your man was porter to some merchant's door,
+Who never taught him better breeding
+Than to speak the vulgar truth!  Well, sir?
+
+[WILLIAMS having re-entered.]
+
+Will.  His name,
+So please your lordship, Markham.
+
+Tin.  Do you know
+The thing?
+
+Roch.  Right well!  I'faith a hearty fellow,
+Son to a worthy tradesman, who would do
+Great things with little means; so entered him
+In the Temple.  A good fellow, on my life.
+Nought smacking of his stock!
+
+Tin.  You've said enough!
+His lordship's not at home.
+
+[WILLIAMS goes out.]
+
+We do not go
+By hearts, but orders!  Had he family -
+Blood--though it only were a drop--his heart
+Would pass for something; lacking such desert,
+Were it ten times the heart it is, 'tis nought!
+
+[Enter WILLIAMS.]
+
+Will.  One Master Jones hath asked to see you lordship.
+
+Tin.  And what was your reply to Master Jones?
+
+Will.  I knew not if his lordship was at home.
+
+Tin.  You'll do.  Who's Master Jones?
+
+Roch.  A curate's son.
+
+Tin.  A curate's!  Better be a yeoman's son!
+Was it the rector's son, he might be known,
+Because the rector is a rising man,
+And may become a bishop.  He goes light,
+The curate ever hath a loaded back!
+He may be called the yeoman of the church,
+That sweating does his work, and drudges on,
+While lives the hopeful rector at his ease.
+How made you his acquaintance, pray?
+
+Roch.  We read
+Latin and Greek together.
+
+Tin.  Dropping them -
+As, now that you're a lord, of course you've done -
+Drop him--You'll say his lordship's not at home.
+
+Will.  So please your lordship, I forgot to say,
+One Richard Cricket likewise is below.
+
+Tin.  Who?--Richard Cricket!  You must see him, Rochdale!
+A noble little fellow!  A great man, sir!
+Not knowing whom, you would be nobody!
+I won five thousand pounds by him!
+
+Roch.  Who is he?
+I never heard of him.
+
+Tin.  What! never heard
+Of Richard Cricket!--never heard of him!
+Why, he's the jockey of Newmarket; you
+May win a cup by him, or else a sweepstakes.
+I bade him call upon you.  You must see him.
+His lordship is at home to Richard Cricket.
+
+Roch.  Bid him wait in the ante-room.
+
+[WILLIAMS goes out.]
+
+Tin.  The ante-room!
+The best room in your house!  You do not know
+The use of Richard Cricket!  Show him, sir,
+Into the drawing-room.  Your lordship needs
+Must keep a racing stud, and you'll do well
+To make a friend of Richard Cricket.  Well, sir:
+What's that?
+
+[Enter WILLIAMS.]
+
+Will.  So please your lordship, a petition.
+
+Tin.  Hadst not a service 'mongst the Hottentots
+Ere thou camest hither, friend?  Present thy lord
+With a petition!  At mechanics' doors,
+At tradesmen's, shopkeepers', and merchants' only,
+Have such things leave to knock!  Make thy lord's gate
+A wicket to a workhouse!  Let us see it -
+Subscriptions to a book of poetry!
+Cornelius Tense, M.A.
+Which means he construes Greek and Latin, works
+Problems in mathematics, can chop logic,
+And is a conjurer in philosophy,
+Both natural and moral.--Pshaw! a man
+Whom nobody, that is anybody, knows!
+Who, think you, follows him?  Why, an M.D.,
+An F.R.S., an F.AS., and then
+A D.D., Doctor of Divinity,
+Ushering in an LL.D., which means
+Doctor of Laws--their harmony, no doubt,
+The difference of their trades!  There's nothing here
+But languages, and sciences, and arts.
+Not an iota of nobility!
+We cannot give our names.  Take back the paper,
+And tell the bearer there's no answer for him:-
+That is the lordly way of saying "No."
+But, talking of subscriptions, here is one
+To which your lordship may affix your name.
+
+Roch.  Pray, who's the object?
+
+Tin.  A most worthy man!
+A man of singular deserts; a man
+In serving whom your lordship will serve me, -
+Signor Cantata.
+
+Roch.  He's a friend of yours?
+
+Tin.  Oh, no, I know him not!  I've not that pleasure.
+But Lady Dangle knows him; she's his friend,
+He will oblige us with a set of concerts,
+Six concerts to the set.--The set, three guineas.
+Your lordship will subscribe?
+
+Roch.  Oh, by all means.
+
+Tin.  How many sets of tickets?  Two at least.
+You'll like to take a friend?  I'll set you down
+Six guineas to Signor Cantata's concerts,
+And now, my Lord, we'll to him; then we'll walk.
+
+Roch.  Nay, I would wait the lady's answer.
+
+Tin.  Wait! take an excursion to the country; let
+Her answer wait for you!
+
+Roch.  Indeed!
+
+Tin.  Indeed!
+Befits a lord nought like indifference.
+Say an estate should fall to you, you'd take it
+As it concerned more a stander by
+Than you.  As you're a lord, be sure you ever
+Of that make little other men make much of;
+Nor do the thing they do, but the right contrary.
+Where the distinction else 'twixt them and you?
+
+[They go out.]
+
+
+SCENE II.--An Apartment in Master Heartwell's House.
+
+
+[MASTER WALTER discovered looking through title-deeds and papers.]
+
+Wal.  So falls out everything, as I would have it,
+Exact in place and time.  This lord's advances
+Receives she,--as, I augur, in the spleen
+Of wounded pride she will,--my course is clear.
+She comes--all's well--the tempest rages still.
+
+[JULIA enters, and paces the room in a state of high excitement.]
+
+Julia.  What have my eyes to do with water?  Fire
+Becomes them better!
+
+Wal.  True!
+
+Julia.  Yet, must I weep
+To be so monitored, and by a man!
+A man that was my slave! whom I have seen
+Kneel at my feet from morn till noon, content
+With leave to only gaze upon my face,
+And tell me what he read there,--till the page
+I knew by heart, I 'gan to doubt I knew,
+Emblazoned by the comment of his tongue!
+And he to lesson me!  Let him come here
+On Monday week!  He ne'er leads me to church!
+I would not profit by his rank, or wealth,
+Though kings might call him cousin, for their sake!
+I'll show him I have pride!
+
+Wal.  You're very right!
+
+Julia.  He would have had to-day our wedding-day!
+I fixed a month from this.  He prayed and prayed;
+I dropped a week.  He prayed and prayed the more!
+I dropped a second one.  Still more he prayed!
+And I took off another week,--and now
+I have his leave to wed, or not to wed!
+He'll see that I have pride!
+
+Wal.  And so he ought.
+
+Julia.  O! for some way to bring him to my foot!
+But he should lie there!  Why, 'twill go abroad
+That he has cast me off.  That there should live
+The man could say so!  Or that I should live
+To be the leavings of a man!
+
+Wal.  Thy case
+I own a hard one!
+
+Julia.  Hard?  'Twill drive me mad!
+His wealth and title!  I refused a lord -
+I did!--that privily implored my hand,
+And never cared to tell him on't!  So much
+I hate him now, that lord should not in vain
+Implore my hand again!
+
+Wal.  You'd give it him?
+
+Julia.  I would.
+
+Wal.  You'd wed that lord?
+
+Julia.  That lord I'd wed; -
+Or any other lord,--only to show him
+That I could wed above him!
+
+Wal.  Give me your hand
+And word to that.
+
+Julia.  There!  Take my hand and word!
+
+Wal.  That lord hath offered you his hand again.
+
+Julia.  He has?
+
+Wal.  Your father knows it:  he approves of him.
+There are the title-deeds of the estates,
+Sent for my jealous scrutiny.  All sound, -
+No flaw, or speck, that e'en the lynx-eyed law
+Itself could find.  A lord of many lands!
+In Berkshire half a county; and the same
+In Wiltshire, and in Lancashire!  Across
+The Irish Sea a principality!
+And not a rood with bond or lien on it!
+Wilt give that lord a wife?  Wilt make thyself
+A countess?  Here's the proffer of his hand.
+Write thou content, and wear a coronet!
+
+Julia.  [Eagerly.]  Give me the paper.
+
+Wal.  There!  Here's pen and ink.
+Sit down.  Why do you pause?  A flourish of
+The pen, and you're a countess.
+
+Julia.  My poor brain
+Whirls round and round!  I would not wed him now,
+Were he more lowly at my feet to sue
+Than e'er he did!
+
+Wal.  Wed whom?
+
+Julia.  Sir Thomas Clifford.
+
+Wal.  You're right.
+
+Julia.  His rank and wealth are roots to doubt;
+And while they lasted, still the weed would grow,
+Howe'er you plucked it.  No!  That's o'er--that's done.
+Was never lady wronged so foul as I!  [Weeps.]
+
+Wal.  Thou'rt to be pitied.
+
+Julia.  [Aroused.]  Pitied!  Not so bad
+As that.
+
+Wal.  Indeed thou art, to love the man
+That spurns thee!
+
+Julia.  Love him!  Love!  If hate could find
+A word more harsh than its own name, I'd take it,
+To speak the love I bear him!  [Weeps.]
+
+Wal.  Write thy own name,
+And show him how near akin thy hate's to hate.
+
+Julia.  [Writes.]  'Tis done!
+
+Wal.  'Tis well!  I'll come to you anon!  [Goes out.]
+
+Julia.  [Alone.]  I'm glad 'tis done!  I'm very glad 'tis done!
+I've done the thing I ought.  From my disgrace
+This lord shall lift me 'bove the reach of scorn -
+That idly wags its tongue, where wealth and state
+Need only beckon to have crowds to laud!
+Then how the tables change!  The hand he spurned
+His betters take!  Let me remember that!
+I'll grace my rank!  I will!  I'll carry it
+As I was born to it!  I warrant none
+Shall say it fits me not:- but, one and all
+Confess I wear it bravely, as I ought!
+And he shall hear it!  Ay, and he shall see it!
+I will roll by him in an equipage
+Would mortgage his estate--but he shall own
+His slight of me was my advancement!  Love me!
+He never loved me! if he had, he ne'er
+Had given me up!  Love's not a spider's web
+But fit to mesh a fly--that you can break
+By only blowing on't!  He never loved me!
+He knows not what love is!--or, if he does,
+He has not been o'erchary of his peace!
+And that he'll find when I'm another's wife,
+Lost!--lost to him for ever!  Tears again!
+Why should I weep for him?  Who make their woes.
+Deserve them!  What have I to do with tears?
+
+[Enter HELEN.]
+
+Helen.  News, Julia, news!
+
+Julia.  What! is't about Sir Thomas?
+
+Helen.  Sir Thomas, say you?  He's no more Sir Thomas!
+That cousin lives, as heir to whom, his wealth
+And title came to him.
+
+Julia.  Was he not dead?
+
+Helen.  No more than I am dead.
+
+Julia.  I would 'twere not so.
+
+Helen.  What say you, Julia?
+
+Julia.  Nothing!
+
+Helen.  I could kiss
+That cousin! couldn't you, Julia?
+
+Julia.  Wherefore?
+
+Helen.  Why
+For coming back to life again, as 'twere
+Upon his cousin to revenge you.
+
+Julia.  Helen!
+
+Helen.  Indeed 'tis true.  With what a sorry grace
+The gentleman will bear himself without
+His title!  Master Clifford!  Have you not
+Some token to return him?  Some love-letter?
+Some brooch?  Some pin?  Some anything?  I'll be
+Your messenger, for nothing but the pleasure
+Of calling him plain "Master Clifford."
+
+Julia.  Helen!
+
+Helen.  Or has he aught of thine?  Write to him, Julia,
+Demanding it!  Do, Julia, if you love me;
+And I'll direct it in a schoolboy's hand,
+As round as I can write, "To Master Clifford."
+
+Julia.  Helen!
+
+Helen.  I'll think of fifty thousand ways
+To mortify him!  I've a twentieth cousin,
+A care-for-nought, at mischief.  Him I'll set,
+With twenty other madcaps like himself,
+To walk the streets the traitor most frequents
+And give him salutation as he passes -
+"How do you, Master Clifford?"
+
+Julia.  [Highly incensed.]  Helen!
+
+Helen.  Bless me!
+
+Julia.  I hate you, Helen!
+
+[Enter MODUS.]
+
+Mod.  Joy for you, fair lady!
+Our baronet is now plain gentleman -
+And hardly that, not master of the means
+To bear himself as such.  The kinsman lives
+Whose only rumoured death gave wealth to him,
+And title.  A hard creditor he proves,
+Who keeps strict reckoning--will have interest.
+As well as principal.  A ruined man
+Is now Sir Thomas Clifford!
+
+Helen.  I'm glad on't.
+
+Mod.  And so am I,
+A scurvy trick it was
+He served you, madam.  Use a lady so!
+I merely bore with him.  I never liked him.
+
+Helen.  No more did I.  No, never could I think
+He looked his title.
+
+Mod.  No, nor acted it.
+If rightly they report, he ne'er disbursed
+To entertain his friends, 'tis broadly said,
+A hundred pounds in the year!  He was most poor
+In the appointments of a man of rank,
+Possessing wealth like his.  His horses, hacks!
+His gentleman, a footman! and his footman,
+A groom!  The sports that men of quality
+And spirit countenance, he kept aloof from,
+From scruple of economy, not taste, -
+As racing and the like.  In brief, he lacked
+Those shining points that, more than name, denote
+High breeding; and, moreover, was a man
+Of very shallow learning.
+
+Julia.  Silence, sir!
+For shame!
+
+Helen.  Why, Julia!
+
+Julia.  Speak not to me!  Poor!
+Most poor!  I tell you, sir, he was the making
+Of fifty gentlemen--each one of whom
+Were more than peer for thee!  His title, sir,
+Lent him no grace he did not pay it back!
+Though it had been the highest of the high,
+He would have looked it, felt it, acted it,
+As thou couldst ne'er have done!  When found you out
+You liked him not?  It was not ere to-day!
+Or that base spirit I must reckon yours
+Which smiles where it would scowl--can stoop to hate
+And fear to show it!  He was your better, sir,
+And is!--Ay, is! though stripped of rank and wealth,
+His nature's 'bove or fortune's love or spite,
+To blazon or to blurr it!  [Retires.]
+
+Mod.  [To HELEN.]  I was told
+Much to disparage him--I know not wherefore.
+
+Helen.  And so was I, and know as much the cause.
+
+[Enter MASTER WALTER, with parchments.]
+
+Wal.  Joy, my Julia!
+Impatient love has foresight!  Lo you here
+The marriage deeds filled up, except a blank
+To write your jointure.  What you will, my girl!
+Is this a lover?  Look!  Three thousand pounds
+Per annum for your private charges!  Ha!
+There's pin-money!  Is this a lover?  Mark
+What acres, forests, tenements, are taxed
+For your revenue; and so set apart,
+That finger cannot touch them, save thine own.
+Is this a lover?  What good fortune's thine!
+Thou dost not speak; but, 'tis the way with joy!
+With richest heart, it has the poorest tongue!
+
+Mod.  What great good fortune's this you speak of, sir?
+
+Wal.  A coronet, Master Modus!  You behold
+The wife elect, sir, of no less a man
+Than the new Earl of Rochdale--heir of him
+That's recently deceased.
+
+Helen.  My dearest Julia,
+Much joy to you!
+
+Mod.  All good attend you, madam!
+
+Wal.  This letter brings excuses from his lordship,
+Whose absence it accounts for.  He repairs
+To his estate in Lancashire, and thither
+We follow.
+
+Julia.  When, sir?
+
+Wal.  Now.  This very hour.
+
+Julia.  This very hour!  O cruel, fatal haste!
+
+Wal.  "O cruel, fatal haste!"  What meanest thou?
+Have I done wrong to do thy bidding, then?
+I have done no more.  Thou wast an offcast bride,
+And wouldst be an affianced one--thou art so!
+Thou'dst have the slight that marked thee out for scorn,
+Converted to a means of gracing thee -
+It is so!  If our wishes come too soon,
+What can make sure of welcome?  In my zeal
+To win thee thine, thou know'st, at any time
+I'd play the steed, whose will to serve his lord,
+With his last breath gives his last bound for him!
+Since only noon have I despatched what well
+Had kept a brace of clerks, and more, on foot -
+And then, perhaps, had been to do again! -
+Not finished sure, complete--the compact firm,
+As fate itself had sealed it!
+
+Julia.  Give you thanks!
+Though 'twere my death! my death!
+
+Wal.  Thy death! indeed,
+For happiness like this, one well might die!
+Take thy lord's letter!  Well?
+
+[Enter THOMAS, with a letter.]
+
+Thos.  This letter, sir,
+The gentleman that served Sir Thomas Clifford -
+Or him that was Sir Thomas--gave to me
+For Mistress Julia.
+
+Julia.  Give it me!
+
+[Throwing away the one she holds.]
+
+Wal.  [Snatching it.]  For what?
+Wouldst read it?  He's a bankrupt! stripped of title,
+House, chattels, lands, and all!  A naked bankrupt,
+With neither purse, nor trust!  Wouldst read his letter?
+A beggar!  Yea, a very beggar!--fasts, unless
+He dines on alms!  How durst he send thee a letter!
+A fellow cut on this hand, and on that;
+Bows and is cut again, and bows again!
+Who pays you fifty smiles for half a one, -
+And that given grudgingly!  To you a letter!
+I burst with choler!  Thus I treat his letter!
+
+[Tears and throws it on the ground.]
+
+So!  I was wrong to let him ruffle me;
+He is not worth the spending anger on!
+I prithee, Master Modus, use despatch,
+And presently make ready for our ride.
+You, Helen, to my Julia look--a change
+Of dresses will suffice.  She must have new ones,
+Matches for her new state!  Haste, friends.  My Julia!
+Why stand you poring there upon the ground?
+Time flies.  Your rise astounds you?  Never heed -
+You'll play my lady countess like a queen!
+
+[They go out.]
+
+
+
+ACT IV.
+
+
+
+SCENE I.--A Room in the Earl of Rochdale's
+
+
+[Eater HELEN.]
+
+Helen.  I'm weary wandering from room to room;
+A castle after all is but a house -
+The dullest one when lacking company.
+Were I at home, I could be company
+Unto myself.  I see not Master Walter,
+He's ever with his ward.  I see not her.
+By Master Walter's will she bides alone.
+My father stops in town.  I can't see him.
+My cousin makes his books his company.
+I'll go to bed and sleep.  No--I'll stay up
+And plague my cousin into making love!
+For, that he loves me, shrewdly I suspect.
+How dull he is that hath not sense to see
+What lies before him, and he'd like to find!
+I'll change my treatment of him.  Cross him, where
+Before I used to humour him.  He comes,
+Poring upon a book.  What's that you read?
+
+[Enter MODUS.]
+
+Mod.  Latin, sweet cousin.
+
+Helen.  'Tis a naughty tongue,
+I fear, and teaches men to lie.
+
+Mod.  To lie!
+
+Helen.  You study it.  You call your cousin sweet,
+And treat her as you would a crab.  As sour
+'Twould seem you think her, as you covet her!
+Why how the monster stares, and looks about!
+You construe Latin, and can't construe that!
+
+Mod.  I never studied women.
+
+Helen.  No; nor men.
+Else would you better know their ways:  nor read
+In presence of a lady.  [Strikes the book from his hand.]
+
+Mod.  Right you say,
+And well you served me, cousin, so to strike
+The volume from my hand.  I own my fault;
+So please you--may I pick it up again?
+I'll put it in my pocket!
+
+Helen.  Pick it up.
+He fears me as I were his grandmother!
+What is the book?
+
+Mod.  'Tis Ovid's Art of Love.
+
+Helen.  That Ovid was a fool!
+
+Mod.  In what?
+
+Helen.  In that:
+To call that thing an art, which art is none.
+
+Mod.  And is not love an art?
+
+Helen.  Are you a fool,
+As well as Ovid?  Love an art!  No art
+But taketh time and pains to learn.  Love comes
+With neither!  Is't to hoard such grain as that,
+You went to college?  Better stay at home,
+And study homely English.
+
+Mod.  Nay, you know not
+The argument.
+
+Helen.  I don't?  I know it better
+Than ever Ovid did!  The face--the form -
+The heart--the mind we fancy, cousin; that's
+The argument!  Why, cousin, you know nothing.
+Suppose a lady were in love with thee:
+Couldst thou by Ovid, cousin, find it out?
+Couldst find it out, wast thou in love thyself?
+Could Ovid, cousin, teach thee to make love?
+I could, that never read him!  You begin
+With melancholy; then to sadness; then
+To sickness; then to dying--but not die!
+She would not let thee, were she of my mind!
+She'd take compassion on thee.  Then for hope;
+From hope to confidence; from confidence
+To boldness;--then you'd speak; at first entreat;
+Then urge; then flout; then argue; then enforce;
+Make prisoner of her hand; besiege her waist;
+Threaten her lips with storming; keep thy word
+And carry her!  My sampler 'gainst thy Ovid!
+Why cousin, are you frightened, that you stand
+As you were stricken dumb?  The case is clear,
+You are no soldier.  You'll ne'er win a battle.
+You care too much for blows!
+
+Mod.  You wrong me there,
+At school I was the champion of my form;
+And since I went to college -
+
+Helen.  That for college!
+
+Mod.  Nay, hear me!
+
+Helen.  Well?  What, since you went to college?
+You know what men are set down for, who boast
+Of their own bravery!  Go on, brave cousin:
+What, since you went to college?  Was there not
+One Quentin Halworth there?  You know there was,
+And that he was your master!
+
+Mod.  He my master!
+Thrice was he worsted by me.
+
+Helen.  Still was he
+Your master.
+
+Mod.  He allowed I had the best!
+Allowed it, mark me! nor to me alone,
+But twenty I could name.
+
+Helen.  And mastered you
+At last!  Confess it, cousin, 'tis the truth!
+A proctor's daughter you did both affect -
+Look at me and deny it!  Of the twain
+She more affected you;--I've caught you now,
+Bold cousin!  Mark you? opportunity
+On opportunity she gave you, sir -
+Deny it if you can!--but though to others,
+When you discoursed of her, you were a flame;
+To her you were a wick that would not light,
+Though held in the very fire!  And so he won her -
+Won her, because he wooed her like a man.
+For all your cuffings, cuffing you again
+With most usurious interest.  Now, sir,
+Protest that you are valiant!
+
+Mod.  Cousin Helen!
+
+Helen.  Well, sir?
+
+Mod.  The tale is all a forgery!
+
+Helen.  A forgery!
+
+Mod.  From first to last; ne'er spoke I
+To a proctor's daughter while I was at college.
+
+Helen.  'Twas a scrivener's then--or somebody's.
+But what concerns it whose?
+Enough, you loved her!
+And, shame upon you, let another take her!
+
+Mod.  Cousin, I'll tell you, if you'll only hear me,
+I loved no woman while I was at college -
+Save one, and her I fancied ere I went there.
+
+Helen.  Indeed!  Now I'll retreat, if he's advancing.
+Comes he not on!  O what a stock's the man!
+Well, cousin?
+
+Mod.  Well!  What more wouldst have me say?
+I think I've said enough.
+
+Helen.  And so think I.
+I did but jest with you.  You are not angry?
+Shake hands!  Why, cousin, do you squeeze me so?
+
+Mod.  [Letting her go.]  I swear I squeezed you not.
+
+Helen.  You did not?
+
+Mod.  No.  I'll die if I did!
+
+Helen.  Why then you did not, cousin,
+So let's shake hands again -
+[He takes her hand as before.]  O go and now
+Read Ovid!  Cousin, will you tell me one thing:
+Wore lovers ruffs in Master Ovid's time?
+Behoved him teach them, then, to put them on; -
+And that you have to learn.  Hold up your head!
+Why, cousin, how you blush!  Plague on the ruff!
+I cannot give't a set.  You're blushing still!
+Why do you blush, dear cousin?  So!--'twill beat me!
+I'll give it up.
+
+Mod.  Nay, prithee, don't--try on!
+
+Helen.  And if I do, I fear you'll think me bold.
+
+Mod.  For what?
+
+Helen.  To trust my face so near to thine.
+
+Mod.  I know not what you mean.
+
+Helen.  I'm glad you don't!
+Cousin, I own right well behaved you are,
+Most marvellously well behaved!  They've bred
+You well at college.  With another man
+My lips would be in danger!  Hang the ruff!
+
+Mod.  Nay, give it up, nor plague thyself, dear cousin.
+
+Helen.  Dear fool!  [Throws the ruff on the ground.]
+I swear the ruff is good for just
+As little as its master!  There!--'Tis spoiled -
+You'll have to get another!  Hie for it,
+And wear it in the fashion of a wisp,
+Ere I adjust it for thee!  Farewell, cousin!
+You'd need to study Ovid's Art of Love.
+
+[HELEN goes out.]
+
+Mod.  [Solus.]  Went she in anger!  I will follow her, -
+No, I will not!  Heigho!  I love my cousin!
+O would that she loved me!  Why did she taunt me
+With backwardness in love?  What could she mean?
+Sees she I love her, and so laughs at me,
+Because I lack the front to woo her?  Nay,
+I'll woo her then!  Her lips shall be in danger,
+When next she trusts them near me!  Looked she at me
+To-day as never did she look before!
+A bold heart, Master Modus!  'Tis a saying
+A faint one never won fair lady yet!
+I'll woo my cousin, come what will on't.  Yes:
+
+[Begins reading again, throws down the book.]
+
+Hang Ovid's Art of Love!  I'll woo my cousin!
+
+[Goes out.]
+
+
+SCENE II.--The Banqueting-room in the Earl of Rochdale's Mansion.
+
+
+[Enter MASTER WALTER and JULIA.]
+
+Wal.  This is the banqueting-room.  Thou seest as far
+It leaves the last behind, as that excels
+The former ones.  All is proportion here
+And harmony!  Observe!  The massy pillars
+May well look proud to bear the gilded dome.
+You mark those full-length portraits?  They're the heads,
+The stately heads, of his ancestral line.
+Here o'er the feast they haply still preside!
+Mark those medallions!  Stand they forth or not
+In bold and fair relief?  Is not this brave?
+
+Julia.  [Abstractedly.]  It is.
+
+Wal.  It should be so.  To cheer the blood
+That flows in noble veins is made the feast
+That gladdens here!  You see this drapery?
+'Tis richest velvet!  Fringe and tassels, gold!
+Is not this costly?
+
+Julia.  Yes.
+
+Wal.  And chaste, the while?
+Both chaste and costly?
+
+Julia.  Yes.
+
+Wal.  Come hither!  There's a mirror for you.  See!
+One sheet from floor to ceiling!  Look into it,
+Salute its mistress!  Dost not know her?
+
+Julia.  [Sighing deeply.]  Yes.
+
+Wal.  And sighest thou to know her?  Wait until
+To-morrow, when the banquet shall be spread
+In the fair hall; the guests--already bid,
+Around it; here, her lord; and there, herself;
+Presiding o'er the cheer that hails him bridegroom,
+And her the happy bride!  Dost hear me?
+
+Julia.  [Sighing still more deeply.]  Yes.
+
+Wal.  These are the day-rooms only, we have seen.
+For public and domestic uses kept.
+I'll show you now the lodging-rooms.
+
+[Goes, then turns and observes JULIA standing perfectly abstracted.]
+
+You're tired.
+Let it be till after dinner, then.  Yet one
+I'd like thee much to see--the bridal chamber.
+
+[JULIA starts, crosses her hands upon her breast, and looks
+upwards.]
+
+I see you're tired:  yet it is worth the viewing,
+If only for the tapestry which shows
+The needle like the pencil glows with life;
+
+[Brings down chairs--they sit.]
+
+The story's of a page who loved the dame
+He served--a princess!--Love's a heedless thing!
+That never takes account of obstacles;
+Makes plains of mountains, rivulets of seas,
+That part it from its wish.  So proved the page,
+Who from a state so lowly, looked so high, -
+But love's a greater lackwit still than this.
+Say it aspires--that's gain!  Love stoops--that's loss!
+You know what comes.  The princess loved the page.
+Shall I go on, or here leave off?
+
+Julia.  Go on.
+
+Wal.  Each side of the chamber shows a different stage
+Of this fond page, and fonder lady's love. {2}
+First--no, it is not that.
+
+Julia.  Oh, recollect!
+
+Wal.  And yet it is.
+
+Julia.  No doubt it is.  What is 't?
+
+Wal.  He holds to her a salver, with a cup;
+His cheeks more mantling with his passion than
+The cup with the ruby wine.  She heeds him not,
+For too great heed of him:- but seems to hold
+Debate betwixt her passion and her pride -
+That's like to lose the day.  You read it in
+Her vacant eye, knit brow, and parted lips,
+Which speak a heart too busy all within
+To note what's done without.  Like you the tale?
+
+Julia.  I list to every word.
+
+Wal.  The next side paints
+The page upon his knee.  He has told his tale;
+And found that when he lost his heart, he played
+No losing game:  but won a richer one!
+There may you read in him, how love would seem
+Most humble when most bold,--you question which
+Appears to kiss her hand--his breath, or lips!
+In her you read how wholly lost is she
+Who trusts her heart to love.  Shall I give o'er?
+
+Julia.  Nay, tell it to the end.  Is't melancholy?
+
+Wal.  To answer that, would mar the story.
+
+Julia.  Right.
+
+Wal.  The third side now we come to.
+
+Julia.  What shows that?
+
+Wal.  The page and princess still.  But stands her sire
+Between them.  Stern he grasps his daughter's arm,
+Whose eyes like fountains play; while through her tears
+Her passion shines, as through the fountain drops
+The sun!  His minions crowd around the page!
+They drag him to a dungeon.
+
+Julia.  Hapless youth!
+
+Wal.  Hapless indeed, that's twice a captive! heart
+And body both in bonds.  But that's the chain,
+Which balance cannot weigh, rule measure, touch
+Define the texture of, or eye detect,
+That's forged by the subtle craft of love!
+No need to tell you that he wears it.  Such
+The cunning of the hand that plied the loom,
+You've but to mark the straining of his eye,
+To feel the coil yourself!
+
+Julia.  I feel't without!
+You've finished with the third side; now the fourth!
+
+Wal.  It brings us to a dungeon, then.
+
+Julia.  The page,
+The thrall of love, more than the dungeon's thrall,
+Is there?
+
+Wal.  He is.  He lies in fetters.
+
+Julia.  Hard!
+Hard as the steel, the hands that put them on.
+
+Wal.  Some one unrivets them!
+
+Julia.  The princess?  'Tis!
+
+Wal.  It is another page.
+
+Julia.  It is herself!
+
+Wal.  Her skin is fair; and his is berry-brown.
+His locks are raven black; and hers are gold.
+
+Julia.  Love's cunning of disguises! spite of locks,
+Skin, vesture,--it is she, and only she
+What will not constant woman do for love
+That's loved with constancy!  Set her the task,
+Virtue approving, that will baffle her!
+O'ertax her stooping, patience, courage, wit!
+My life upon it, 'tis the princess' self,
+Transformed into a page!
+
+Wal.  The dungeon door
+Stands open, and you see beyond -
+
+Julia.  Her father!
+
+Wal.  No; a steed.
+
+Julia.  [Starting up.]  O, welcome steed,
+My heart bounds at the thought of thee!  Thou comest
+To bear the page from bonds to liberty.
+What else?
+
+Wal.  [Rising.]  The story's told.
+
+Julia.  Too briefly told;
+O happy princess, that had wealth and state
+To lay them down for love!  Whose constant love
+Appearances approved, not falsified!
+A winner in thy loss, as well as gain.
+
+Wal.  Weighs love so much?
+
+Julia.  What would you weigh 'gainst love
+That's true?  Tell me with what you'd turn the scale?
+Yea, make the index waver?  Wealth?  A feather!
+Rank?  Tinsel against bullion in the balance!
+The love of kindred?  That to set 'gainst love!
+Friendship comes nearest to't; but put it in,
+Friendship will kick the beam!--weigh nothing 'gainst it!
+Weigh love against the world!
+Yet are they happy that have naught to say to it.
+
+Wal.  And such a one art thou.  Who wisely wed,
+Wed happily.  The love thou speak'st of,
+A flower is only, that its season has,
+Which they must look to see the withering of,
+Who pleasure in its budding and its bloom!
+But wisdom is the constant evergreen
+Which lives the whole year through!  Be that, your flower!
+
+[Enter a Servant.]
+
+Well?
+
+Serv.  My lord's secretary is without.
+He brings a letter for her ladyship,
+And craves admittance to her.
+
+Wal.  Show him in.
+
+Julia.  No.
+
+Wal.  Thou must see him.  To show slight to him,
+Were slighting him that sent him.  Show him in!
+
+[Servant goes out.]
+
+Some errand proper for thy private ear,
+Besides the letter he may bring.  What mean
+This paleness and this trembling?  Mark me, Julia!
+If, from these nuptials, which thyself invited -
+Which at thy seeking came--thou wouldst be freed,
+Thou hast gone too far!  Receding were disgrace,
+Sooner than see thee suffer which, the hearts
+That love thee most would wish thee dead!  Reflect!
+Take thought! collect thyself!  With dignity
+Receive thy bridegroom's messenger! for sure
+As dawns to-morrow's sun, to-morrow night
+Sees thee a wedded bride!
+
+[Goes out.]
+
+Julia.  [Alone.]  A wedded bride!
+Is it a dream?  Is it a phantasm?  'Tis
+Too horrible for reality! for aught else
+Too palpable!  O would it were a dream!
+How would I bless the sun that waked me from it!
+I perish!  Like some desperate mariner
+Impatient of a strange and hostile land,
+Who rashly hoists his sail and puts to sea,
+And being fast on reefs and quicksands borne,
+Essays in vain once more to make the land,
+Whence wind and current drive him; I'm wrecked
+By mine own act!  What! no escape? no hope?
+None!  I must e'en abide these hated nuptials!
+Hated!--Ah! own it, and then curse thyself!
+That madest the bane thou loathest--for the love
+Thou bear'st to one who never can be thine!
+Yes--love!  Deceive thyself no longer.  False
+To say 'tis pity for his fall--respect,
+Engendered by a hollow world's disdain,
+Which hoots whom fickle fortune cheers no more!
+'Tis none of these; 'tis love--and if not love,
+Why then idolatry!  Ay, that's the name
+To speak the broadest, deepest, strongest passion,
+That ever woman's heart was borne away by!
+He comes!  Thou'dst play the lady,--play it now!
+
+[Enter a Servant, conducting CLIFFORD, plainly attired as the EARL
+OF ROCHDALE'S Secretary.]
+
+Servant.  His lordship's secretary.
+
+[Servant goes out.]
+
+Julia.  Speaks he not?  Or does he wait for orders to unfold
+His business?  Stopped his business till I spoke,
+I'd hold my peace for ever!
+
+[CLIFFORD kneels; presenting a letter.]
+
+Does he kneel?
+A lady am I to my heart's content!
+Could he unmake me that which claims his knee,
+I'd kneel to him--I would!  I would!--Your will?
+
+Clif.  This letter from my lord.
+
+Julia.  O fate!  Who speaks?
+
+Clif.  The secretary of my lord.
+
+Julia.  I breathe!
+I could have sworn 'twas he!
+
+[Makes an effort to look at him, but is unable.]
+
+So like the voice -
+I dare not look, lest there the form should stand!
+How came he by that voice?  'Tis Clifford's voice,
+If ever Clifford spoke!  My fears come back -
+Clifford the secretary of my lord!
+Fortune hath freaks, but none so mad as that!
+It cannot be!--It should not be!--A look,
+And all were set at rest.
+
+[Tries to look at him again, but cannot.]
+
+So strong my fears,
+Dread to confirm them takes away the power
+To try and end them!  Come the worst, I'll look.
+
+[She tries again; and again is unequal to the task.]
+
+I'd sink before him if I met his eye!
+
+Clif.  Will't please your ladyship to take the letter?
+Julia.  There Clifford speaks again!  Not Clifford's heart
+Could more make Clifford's voice!  Not Clifford's tongue
+And lips more frame it into Clifford's speech!
+A question, and 'tis over!  Know I you?
+
+Clif.  Reverse of fortune, lady, changes friends;
+It turns them into strangers.  What I am
+I have not always been!
+
+Julia.  Could I not name you?
+
+Clif.  If your disdain for one, perhaps too bold
+When hollow fortune called him favourite, -
+Now by her fickleness perforce reduced
+To take an humble tone, would suffer you -
+
+Julia.  I might?
+
+Clif.  You might!
+
+Julia.  Oh, Clifford! is it you?
+
+Clif.  Your answer to my lord.
+
+[Gives the letter.]
+
+Julia.  Your lord!
+
+[Mechanically taking it.]
+
+Clif.  Wilt write it?
+Or, will it please you send a verbal one?
+I'll bear it faithfully.
+
+Julia.  You'll bear it?
+
+Clif.  Madam,
+Your pardon, but my haste is somewhat urgent.
+My lord's impatient, and to use despatch
+Were his repeated orders.
+
+Julia.  Orders?  Well,
+I'll read the letter, sir.  'Tis right you mind
+His lordship's orders.  They are paramount!
+Nothing should supersede them!--stand beside them!
+They merit all your care, and have it!  Fit,
+Most fit, they should!  Give me the letter, sir.
+
+Clif.  You have it, madam.
+
+Julia.  So!  How poor a thing
+I look! so lost, while he is all himself!
+Have I no pride?
+
+[She rings, the Servant enters.]
+
+Paper, and pen, and ink!
+If he can freeze, 'tis time that I grow cold!
+I'll read the letter.
+
+[Opens it, and holds it as about to read it.]
+
+Mind his orders!  So!
+Quickly he fits his habits to his fortunes!
+He serves my lord with all his will!  His heart's
+In his vocation.  So!  Is this the letter?
+'Tis upside down--and here I'm poring on't!
+Most fit I let him see me play the fool!
+Shame!  Let me be myself!
+
+[A Servant enters with materials for writing.]
+
+A table, sir,
+And chair.
+
+[The Servant brings a table and chair, and goes out.  She sits a
+while, vacantly gazing on the letter--then looks at CLIFFORD.]
+
+How plainly shows his humble suit!
+It fits not him that wears it!  I have wronged him!
+He can't be happy--does not look it!--is not.
+That eye which reads the ground is argument
+Enough!  He loves me.  There I let him stand,
+And I am sitting!
+
+[Rises, takes a chair, and approaches CLIFFORD.]
+
+Pray you take a chair.
+
+[He bows, as acknowledging and declining the honour.  She looks at
+him a while.]
+
+Clifford, why don't you speak to me?
+
+[She weeps.]
+
+Clif.  I trust
+You're happy.
+
+Julia.  Happy!  Very, very happy!
+You see I weep, I am so happy!  Tears
+Are signs, you know, of naught but happiness!
+When first I saw you, little did I look
+To be so happy!--Clifford!
+
+Clif.  Madam?
+
+Julia.  Madam!
+I call thee Clifford, and thou call'st me madam!
+
+Clif.  Such the address my duty stints me to.
+Thou art the wife elect of a proud Earl,
+Whose humble secretary, sole, am I.
+
+Julia.  Most right!  I had forgot!  I thank you, sir,
+For so reminding me; and give you joy,
+That what, I see, had been a burthen to you,
+Is fairly off your hands.
+
+Clif.  A burthen to me!
+Mean you yourself?  Are you that burthen, Julia?
+Say that the sun's a burthen to the earth!
+Say that the blood's a burthen to the heart!
+Say health's a burthen, peace, contentment, joy,
+Fame, riches, honours! everything that man
+Desires, and gives the name of blessing to
+E'en such a burthen, Julia were to me,
+Had fortune let me wear her.
+
+Julia.  [Aside.]  On the brink
+Of what a precipice I'm standing!  Back,
+Back! while the faculty remains to do't!
+A minute longer, not the whirlpool's self
+More sure to suck me down!  One effort!  There!
+
+[She returns to her seat, recovers her self-possession, takes up the
+letter, and reads.]
+
+To wed to-morrow night!  Wed whom?  A man
+Whom I can never love!  I should before
+Have thought of that.  To-morrow night!  This hour
+To-morrow!  How I tremble!  Happy bands
+To which my heart such freezing welcome gives,
+As sends an ague through me!  At what means
+Will not the desperate snatch!  What's honour's price?
+Nor friends, nor lovers,--no, nor life itself!
+Clifford!  This moment leave me!
+
+[CLIFFORD retires up the stage out of JULIA'S sight.]
+
+Is he gone?
+O docile lover!  Do his mistress' wish
+That went against his own!  Do it so soon
+Ere well 'twas uttered!  No good-bye to her!
+No word! no look!  'Twas best that he so went!
+Alas, the strait of her, who owns that best,
+Which last she'd wish were done?  What's left me now?
+To weep!  To weep!
+
+[Leans her head upon her arm, which rests upon the desk,--her other
+arm hanging listlessly at her side.  CLIFFORD comes down the stage,
+looks a moment at her, approaches her, and kneeling, takes her
+hand.]
+
+Clif.  My Julia!
+
+Julia.  Here again!
+Up! up!  By all thy hopes of Heaven, go hence!
+To stay's perdition to me!  Look you, Clifford!
+Were there a grave where thou art kneeling now,
+I'd walk into 't, and be inearthed alive,
+Ere taint should touch my name!  Should some one come
+And see thee kneeling thus!  Let go my hand!
+Remember, Clifford, I'm a promised bride -
+And take thy arm away!  It has no right
+To clasp my waist!  Judge you so poorly of me,
+As think I'll suffer this?  My honour, sir!
+
+[She breaks from him, quitting her seat.]
+
+I'm glad you've forced me to respect myself -
+You'll find that I can do so!
+
+Clif.  I was bold -
+Forgetful of your station and my own;
+There was a time I held your hand unchid!
+There was a time I might have clasped your waist -
+I had forgot that time was past and gone!
+I pray you, pardon me!
+
+Julia.  [Softened.]  I do so, Clifford.
+
+Clif.  I shall no more offend.
+
+Julia.  Make sure of that.
+No longer is it fit thou keep'st thy post
+In's lordship's household.  Give it up!  A day -
+An hour remain not in it!
+
+Clif.  Wherefore?
+
+Julia.  Live
+In the same house with me, and I another's?
+Put miles, put leagues between us!  The same land
+Should not contain us.  Oceans should divide us -
+With barriers of constant tempests--such
+As mariners durst not tempt!  O Clifford!
+Rash was the act so light that gave me up,
+That stung a woman's pride, and drove her mad -
+Till in her frenzy she destroyed her peace!
+Oh, it was rashly done!  Had you reproved -
+Expostulated,--had you reasoned with me -
+Tried to find out what was indeed my heart, -
+I would have shown it--you'd have seen it.  All
+Had been as naught can ever be again!
+
+Clif.  Lovest thou me, Julia?
+
+Julia.  Dost thou ask me, Clifford?
+
+Clif.  These nuptials may be shunned! -
+
+Julia.  With honour?
+
+Clif.  Yes!
+
+Julia.  Then take me!--Stop--hear me, and take me then!
+Let not thy passion be my counsellor!
+Deal with me, Clifford, as my brother.  Be
+The jealous guardian of my spotless name!
+Scan thou my cause as 'twere thy sister's.  Let
+Thy scrutiny o'erlook no point of it, -
+Nor turn it over once, but many a time:-
+That flaw, speck--yea,--the shade of one,--a soil
+So slight, not one out of a thousand eyes
+Could find it out, may not escape thee; then
+Say if these nuptials can be shunned with honour!
+
+Clif.  They can.
+
+Julia.  Then take me, Clifford!  [They embrace.]
+
+Wal.  [Entering.]  Ha!  What's this?
+Ha! treason!  What! my baronet that was,
+My secretary now?  Your servant, sir!
+Is't thus you do the pleasure of your lord, -
+That for your service feeds you, clothes you, pays you!
+Or takest thou but the name of his dependent?
+What's here?--a letter.  Fifty crowns to one
+A forgery!  I'm wrong.  It is his hand.
+This proves thee double traitor!
+
+Clif.  Traitor!
+
+Julia.  Nay,
+Control thy wrath, good Master Walter!  Do -
+And I'll persuade him to go hence -
+
+[MASTER WALTER retires up the stage.]  I see
+For me thou bearest this, and thank thee, Clifford!
+As thou hast truly shown thy heart to me,
+So truly I to thee have opened mine!
+Time flies!  To-morrow!  If thy love can find
+A way, such as thou saidst, for my enlargement
+By any means thou canst, apprise me of it;
+And, soon as shown, I'll take it.
+
+Wal.  Is he gone?
+
+Julia.  He is this moment.  If thou covetest me,
+Win me, and wear me!  May I trust thee?  Oh!
+If that's thy soul, that's looking through thine eyes,
+Thou lovest me, and I may!--I sicken, lest
+I never see thee more
+
+Clif.  As life is mine,
+The ring that on thy wedding-finger goes
+No hand but mine shall place there!
+
+Wal.  Lingers he?
+
+Julia.  For my sake, now away!  And yet a word.
+By all thy hopes most dear, be true to me!
+Go now!--yet stay!  Clifford, while you are here,
+I'm like a bark distressed and compassless,
+That by a beacon steers; when you're away,
+That bark alone and tossing miles at sea!
+Now go!  Farewell!  My compass--beacon--land!
+When shall my eyes be blessed with thee again!
+
+Clif.  Farewell!  [Goes out.]
+
+Julia.  Art gone?  All's chance--all's care--all's darkness.
+
+[Is led off by MASTER WALTER.]
+
+
+
+ACT V.
+
+
+
+SCENE I.--An Apartment in the Earl of Rochdale's.
+
+
+[Enter HELEN and FATHOM.]
+
+Fath.  The long and short of it is this--if she marries this lord,
+she'll break her heart!  I wish you could see her, madam.  Poor
+lady!
+
+Helen.  How looks she, prithee?
+
+Fath.  Marry, for all the world like a dripping-wet cambric
+handkerchief!  She has no colour nor strength in her; and does
+nothing but weep--poor lady!
+
+Helen.  Tell me again what said she to thee?
+
+Fath.  She offered me all she was mistress of to take the letter to
+Master Clifford.  She drew her purse from her pocket--the ring from
+her finger--she took her very earrings out of her ears--but I was
+forbidden, and refused.  And now I'm sorry for it!  Poor lady!
+
+Helen.  Thou shouldst be sorry.  Thou hast a hard heart, Fathom.
+
+Fath.  I, madam!  My heart is as soft as a woman's.  You should have
+seen me when I came out of her chamber--poor lady!
+
+Helen.  Did you cry?
+
+Fath.  No; but I was as near it as possible.  I a hard heart!  I
+would do anything to serve her, poor sweet lady!
+
+Helen.  Will you take her letter, asks she you again?
+
+Fath.  No--I am forbid.
+
+Helen.  Will you help Master Clifford to an interview with her?
+
+Fath.  No--Master Walter would find it out.
+
+Helen.  Will you contrive to get me into her chamber?
+
+Fath.  No--you would be sure to bring me into mischief.
+
+Helen.  Go to!  You would do nothing to serve her.  You a soft
+heart!  You have no heart at all!  You feel not for her!
+
+Fath.  But I tell you I do--and good right I have to feel for her.
+I have been in love myself.
+
+Helen.  With your dinner!
+
+Fath.  I would it had been!  My pain would soon have been over, and
+at little cost.  A fortune I squandered upon her!--trinkets--
+trimmings--treatings--what swallowed up the revenue of a whole year!
+Wasn't I in love?  Six months I courted her, and a dozen crowns all
+but one did I disburse for her in that time!  Wasn't I in love?  An
+hostler--a tapster--and a constable, courted her at the same time,
+and I offered to cudgel the whole three of them for her!  Wasn't I
+in love?
+
+Helen.  You are a valiant man, Fathom.
+
+Fath.  Am not I?  Walks not the earth the man I am afraid of.
+
+Helen.  Fear you not Master Walter?
+
+Fath.  No.
+
+Helen.  You do!
+
+Fath.  I don't!
+
+Helen.  I'll prove it to you.  You see him breaking your young
+mistress's heart, and have not the manhood to stand by her.
+
+Fath.  What could I do for her?
+
+Helen.  Let her out of prison.  It were the act of a man.
+
+Fath.  That man am I!
+
+Helen.  Well said, brave Fathom!
+
+Fath.  But my place!
+
+Helen.  I'll provide thee with a better one.
+
+Fath.  'Tis a capital place!  So little to do, and so much to get
+for't.  Six pounds in the year; two suits of livery; shoes and
+stockings, and a famous larder.  He'd be a bold man that would put
+such a place in jeopardy.  My place, madam, my place!
+
+Helen.  I tell thee I'll provide thee with a better place.  Thou
+shalt have less to do, and more to get.  Now, Fathom, hast thou
+courage to stand by thy mistress?
+
+Fath.  I have!
+
+Helen.  That's right.
+
+Fath.  I'll let my lady out.
+
+[Enter MASTER WALTER unperceived.]
+
+Helen.  That's right.  When, Fathom?
+
+Fath.  To-night.
+
+Helen.  She is to be married to-night.
+
+Fath.  This evening, then.  Master Walter is now in the library, the
+key is on the outside, and I'll lock him in.
+
+Helen.  Excellent!  You'll do it?
+
+Fath.  Rely upon it.  How he'll stare when he finds himself a
+prisoner, and my young lady at liberty!
+
+Helen.  Most excellent!  You'll be sure to do it?
+
+Fath.  Depend upon me!  When Fathom undertakes a thing, he defies
+fire and water -
+
+Wal.  [Coming forward.]  Fathom!
+
+Fath.  Sir!
+
+Wal.  Assemble straight the servants.
+
+Fath.  Yes, sir!
+
+Wal.  Mind,
+And have them in the hall when I come down.
+
+Fath.  Yes, sir!
+
+Wal.  And see you do not stir a step,
+But where I order you.
+
+Fath.  Not an inch, sir!
+
+Wal.  See that you don't--away!  So, my fair mistress,
+
+[FATHOM goes out.]
+
+What's this you have been plotting?  An escape
+For mistress Julia?
+
+Helen.  I avow it.
+
+Wal.  Do you?
+
+Helen.  Yes; and moreover to your face I tell you,
+Most hardly do you use her!
+
+Wal.  Verily!
+
+Helen.  I wonder where's her spirit!  Had she mine
+She would not take 't so easily.  Do you mean
+To force this marriage on her?
+
+Wal.  With your leave.
+
+Helen.  You laugh.
+
+Wal.  Without it, then.  I don't laugh now.
+
+Helen.  If I were she, I'd find a way to escape.
+
+Wal.  What would you do?
+
+Helen.  I'd leap out of the window!
+
+Wal.  Your window should be barred.
+
+Helen.  I'd cheat you still! -
+I'd hang myself ere I'd be forced to marry!
+
+Wal.  Well said!  You shall be married, then, tonight.
+
+Helen.  Married to-night!
+
+Wal.  As sure as I have said it.
+
+Helen.  Two words to that.  Pray who's to be my bridegroom?
+
+Wal.  A daughter's husband is her father's choice.
+
+Helen.  My father's daughter ne'er shall wed such husband!
+
+Wal.  Indeed!
+
+Helen.  I'll pick a husband for myself.
+
+Wal.  Indeed!
+
+Helen.  Indeed, sir; and indeed again!
+
+Wal.  Go dress you for the marriage ceremony.
+
+Helen.  But, Master Walter, what is it you mean?
+
+[Enter MODUS.]
+
+Wal.  Here comes your cousin;--he shall be your bridesman!
+The thought's a sudden one,--that will excuse
+Defect in your appointments.  A plain dress, -
+So 'tis of white,--will do.
+
+Helen.  I'll dress in black.
+I'll quit the castle.
+
+Wal.  That you shall not do.
+Its doors are guarded by my lord's domestics,
+Its avenues--its grounds.  What you must do,
+Do with a good grace!  In an hour, or less,
+Your father will be here.  Make up your mind
+To take with thankfulness the man he gives you.
+Now, [Aside] if they find not out how beat their hearts,
+I have no skill, not I, in feeling pulses.
+
+[Goes out.]
+
+Helen.  Why, cousin Modus!  What! will you stand by
+And see me forced to marry?  Cousin Modus!
+Have you not got a tongue?  Have you not eyes?
+Do you not see I'm very--very ill,
+And not a chair in all the corridor?
+
+Mod.  I'll find one in the study.
+
+Helen.  Hang the study!
+
+Mod.  My room's at hand.  I'll fetch one thence.
+
+Helen.  You shan't
+I'd faint ere you came back!
+
+Mod.  What shall I do?
+
+Helen.  Why don't you offer to support me?  Well?
+Give me your arm--be quick!  [MODUS offers his arm.]
+Is that the way
+To help a lady when she's like to faint?
+I'll drop unless you catch me!  [MODUS supports her.]
+That will do.
+I'm better now--[MODUS offers to leave her] don't leave me!  Is one
+well
+Because one's better?  Hold my hand.  Keep so.
+I'll soon recover so you move not.  Loves he -
+
+[Aside.]
+
+Which I'll be sworn he does, he'll own it now.
+Well, cousin Modus?
+
+Mod.  Well, sweet cousin!
+
+Helen.  Well?
+You heard what Master Walter said?
+
+Mod.  I did.
+
+Helen.  And would you have me marry?  Can't you speak?
+Say yes or no.
+
+Mod.  No, cousin!
+
+Helen.  Bravely said!
+And why, my gallant cousin?
+
+Mod.  Why?
+
+Helen.  Ay, why? -
+Women, you know, are fond of reasons--why
+Would you not have me marry?  How you blush!
+Is it because you do not know the reason?
+You mind me of a story of a cousin
+Who once her cousin such a question asked.
+He had not been to college, though--for books,
+Had passed his time in reading ladies' eyes.
+Which he could construe marvellously well,
+Though writ in language all symbolical.
+Thus stood they once together, on a day -
+As we stand now--discoursed as we discourse, -
+But with this difference,--fifty gentle words
+He spoke to her, for one she spoke to him! -
+What a dear cousin!  Well, as I did say,
+As now I questioned thee, she questioned him.
+And what was his reply?  To think of it
+Sets my heart beating--'twas so kind a one!
+So like a cousin's answer--a dear cousin!
+A gentle, honest, gallant, loving cousin!
+What did he say?--A man might find it out,
+Though never read he Ovid's Art of Love -
+What did he say?  He'd marry her himself!
+How stupid are you, cousin!  Let me go!
+
+Mod.  You are not well yet?
+
+Helen.  Yes.
+
+Mod.  I'm sure you're not.
+
+Helen.  I'm sure I am.
+
+Mod.  Nay, let me hold you, cousin!  I like it.
+
+Helen.  Do you?  I would wager you
+You could not tell me why you like it.  Well?
+You see how true I know you!  How you stare!
+What see you in my face to wonder at?
+
+Mod.  A pair of eyes!
+
+Helen.  At last he'll find his tongue--[Aside.]
+And saw you ne'er a pair of eyes before?
+
+Mod.  Not such a pair.
+
+Helen.  And why?
+
+Mod.  They are so bright!
+You have a Grecian nose.
+
+Helen.  Indeed.
+
+Mod.  Indeed!
+
+Helen.  What kind of mouth have I?
+
+Mod.  A handsome one.  I never saw so sweet a pair of lips!
+I ne'er saw lips at all till now, dear cousin!
+
+Helen.  Cousin, I'm well,--you need not hold me now.
+Do you not hear?  I tell you I am well!
+I need your arm no longer--take 't away!
+So tight it locks me, 'tis with pain I breathe!
+Let me go, cousin!  Wherefore do you hold
+Your face so close to mine?  What do you mean?
+
+Mod.  You've questioned me, and now I'll question you.
+
+Helen.  What would you learn?
+
+Mod.  The use of lips.
+
+Helen.  To speak.
+
+Mod.  Naught else?
+
+Helen.  How bold my modest cousin grows!
+Why, other use know you?
+
+Mod.  I do!
+
+Helen.  Indeed!
+You're wondrous wise?  And pray what is it?
+
+Mod.  This!  [Attempts to kiss her.]
+
+Helen.  Soft! my hand thanks you, cousin--for my lips
+I keep them for a husband!--Nay, stand off!
+I'll not be held in manacles again!
+Why do you follow me?
+
+Mod.  I love you, cousin!
+
+Helen.  O cousin, say you so!  That's passing strange!
+Falls out most crossly--is a dire mishap -
+A thing to sigh for, weep for, languish for,
+And die for!
+
+Mod.  Die for!
+
+Helen, Yes, with laughter, cousin,
+For, cousin, I love you!
+
+Mod.  And you'll be mine?
+
+Helen.  I will.
+
+Mod.  Your hand upon it.
+
+Helen.  Hand and heart.
+Hie to thy dressing-room, and I'll to mine -
+Attire thee for the altar--so will I.
+Whoe'er may claim me, thou'rt the man shall have me.
+Away!  Despatch!  But hark you, ere you go,
+Ne'er brag of reading Ovid's Art of Love!
+
+Mod.  And cousin! stop--one little word with you!
+
+[She returns, he snatches a kiss--They go out severally.]
+
+
+SCENE II.--Julia's Chamber.
+
+
+[Enter JULIA.]
+
+Julia.  No word from him, and evening now set in!
+He cannot play me false!  His messenger
+Is dogged--or letter intercepted.  I'm
+Beset with spies!--No rescue!--No escape! -
+The hour at hand that brings my bridegroom home!
+No relative to aid me! friend to counsel me.
+
+[A knock at the door.]
+
+Come in.
+
+[Enter two Female Attendants.]
+
+Your will?
+
+First Attendant.  Your toilet waits, my lady;
+'Tis time you dress.
+
+Julia.  'Tis time I die!  [A peal of bells.]  What's that?
+
+First Attendant.  Your wedding bells, my lady.
+
+Julia.  Merrily
+They ring my knell!
+[Second Attendant presents an open case.]
+And pray you what are these?
+
+Second Attendant.  Your wedding jewels.
+
+Julia.  Set them by.
+
+Second Attendant.  Indeed.
+Was ne'er a braver set!  A necklace, brooch,
+And earrings all of brilliants, with a hoop
+To guard your wedding ring.
+
+Julia.  'Twould need a guard
+That lacks a heart to keep it!
+
+Second Attendant.  Here's a heart
+Suspended from the necklace--one huge diamond
+Imbedded in a host of smaller ones!
+Oh! how it sparkles!
+
+Julia.  Show it me!  Bright heart,
+Thy lustre, should I wear thee, will be false, -
+For thou the emblem art of love and truth, -
+From her that wears thee unto him that gives thee.
+Back to thy case!  Better thou ne'er shouldst leave it -
+Better thy gems a thousand fathoms deep
+In their native mine again, than grace my neck,
+And lend thy fair face to palm off a lie!
+
+First Attendant.  Will't please you dress?
+
+Julia.  Ah! in infected clothes
+New from a pest-house!  Leave me!  If I dress,
+I dress alone!  O for a friend!  Time gallops!
+
+[Attendants go out.]
+
+He that should guard me is mine enemy!
+Constrains me to abide the fatal die,
+My rashness, not my reason cast!  He comes,
+That will exact the forfeit!--Must I pay it? -
+E'en at the cost of utter bankruptcy!
+What's to be done?  Pronounce the vow that parts
+My body from my soul!  To what it loathes
+Links that, while this is linked to what it loves!
+Condemned to such perdition!  What's to be done?
+Stand at the altar in an hour from this!
+An hour thence seated at his board--a wife
+Thence!--frenzy's in the thought!  What's to be done?
+
+[Enter MASTER WALTER.]
+
+Wal.  What! run the waves so high?  Not ready yet!
+Your lord will soon be here!  The guests collect.
+
+Julia.  Show me some way to 'scape these nuptials!  Do it!
+Some opening for avoidance or escape, -
+Or to thy charge I'll lay a broken heart!
+It may be, broken vows, and blasted honour,
+Or else a mind distraught!
+
+Wal.  What's this?
+
+Julia.  The strait
+I'm fallen into my patience cannot bear.
+It frights my reason--warps my sense of virtue!
+Religion!--changes me into a thing
+I look at with abhorring!
+
+Wal.  Listen to me.
+
+Julia.  Listen to me!  If this contract
+Thou holdest me to--abide thou the result!
+Answer to heaven for what I suffer!--act!
+Prepare thyself for such calamity
+To fall on me, and those whose evil stars
+Have linked them with me, as no past mishap,
+However rare, and marvellously sad
+Can parallel! lay thy account to live
+A smileless life, die an unpitied death -
+Abhorred, abandoned of thy kind,--as one
+Who had the guarding of a young maid's peace, -
+Looked on and saw her rashly peril it;
+And when she saw her danger, and confessed
+Her fault, compelled her to complete her ruin!
+
+Wal.  Hast done?
+
+Julia.  Another moment, and I have.
+Be warned!  Beware how you abandon me
+To myself!  I'm young, rash, inexperienced! tempted
+By most insufferable misery!
+Bold, desperate, and reckless!  Thou hast age
+Experience, wisdom, and collectedness, -
+Power, freedom,--everything that I have not,
+Yet want, as none e'er wanted!  Thou canst save me,
+Thou oughtst! thou must!  I tell thee at his feet
+I'll fall a corse--ere mount his bridal bed!
+So choose betwixt my rescue and my grave; -
+And quickly too!  The hour of sacrifice
+Is near!  Anon the immolating priest
+Will summon me!  Devise some speedy means
+To cheat the altar of its victim.  Do it!
+Nor leave the task to me!
+
+Wal.  Hast done?
+
+Julia.  I have.
+
+Wal.  Then list to me--and silently, if not
+With patience.--[Brings chairs for himself and her.]
+How I watched thee from thy childhood
+I'll not recall to thee.  Thy father's wisdom -
+Whose humble instrument I was--directed
+Your nonage should be passed in privacy,
+From your apt mind that far outstripped your years,
+Fearing the taint of an infected world; -
+For, in the rich grounds, weeds once taking root,
+Grow strong as flowers.  He might be right or wrong!
+I thought him right; and therefore did his bidding.
+Most certainly he loved you--so did I;
+Ay! well as I had been myself your father!
+
+[His hand is resting upon his knee, JULIA attempts to take it--he
+withdraws it--looks at her--she hangs her head.]
+
+Well; you may take my hand!  I need not say
+How fast you grew in knowledge, and in goodness, -
+That hope could scarce enjoy its golden dreams
+So soon fulfilment realised them all!
+Enough.  You came to womanhood.  Your heart,
+Pure as the leaf of the consummate bud,
+That's new unfolded by the smiling sun,
+And ne'er knew blight nor canker!
+
+[JULIA attempts to place her other hand on his shoulder--he leans
+from her--looks at her--she hangs her head again.]
+
+Put it there!
+Where left I off?  I know!  When a good woman
+Is fitly mated, she grows doubly good,
+How good soe'er before!  I found the man
+I thought a match for thee; and, soon as found,
+Proposed him to thee.  'Twas your father's will,
+Occasion offering, you should be married
+Soon as you reached to womanhood.--You liked
+My choice, accepted him.--We came to town;
+Where, by important matter summoned thence,
+I left you an affianced bride!
+
+Julia.  You did!
+You did!  [Leans her head upon her hand and weeps.]
+
+Wal.  Nay, check thy tears!  Let judgment now,
+Not passion, be awake.  On my return,
+I found thee--what?  I'll not describe the thing
+I found thee then!  I'll not describe my pangs
+To see thee such a thing!  The engineer
+Who lays the last stone of his sea-built tower,
+It cost him years and years of toil to raise -
+And, smiling at it, tells the winds and waves
+To roar and whistle now--but, in a night,
+Beholds the tempest sporting in its place -
+May look aghast, as I did!
+
+Julia.  [Falling on her knees.]  Pardon me!
+Forgive me! pity me!
+
+Wal.  Resume thy seat.  [Raises her.]
+I pity thee; perhaps not thee alone
+It fits to sue for pardon.
+
+Julia.  Me alone!
+None other!
+
+Wal.  But to vindicate myself,
+I name thy lover's stern desertion of thee.
+What wast thou then with wounded pride?  A thing
+To leap into a torrent! throw itself
+From a precipice! rush into a fire!  I saw
+Thy madness--knew to thwart it were to chafe it -
+And humoured it to take that course, I thought,
+Adopted, least 'twould rue!
+
+Julia.  'Twas wisely done.
+
+Wal.  At least 'twas for the best.
+
+Julia.  To blame thee for it
+Was adding shame to shame!  But Master Walter,
+These nuptials!--must they needs go on?
+
+Servant.  [Entering.]  More guests
+Arrive.
+
+Wal.  Attend to them.  [Servant goes out.]
+
+Julia.  Dear Master Walter!
+Is there no way to escape these nuptials?
+
+Wal.  Know'st not
+What with these nuptials comes?  Hast thou forgot?
+
+Julia.  What?
+
+Wal.  Nothing!--I did tell thee of a thing.
+
+Julia.  What was it?
+
+Wal.  To forget it was a fault!
+Look back and think.
+
+Julia.  I can't remember it.
+
+Wal.  Fathers, make straws your children!  Nature's nothing,
+Blood nothing!  Once in other veins it runs,
+It no more yearneth for the parent flood,
+Than doth the stream that from the source disparts.
+Talk not of love instinctive--what you call so
+Is but the brat of custom!  Your own flesh
+By habit cleaves to you--without,
+Hath no adhesion.  [Aside.]  So; you have forgot
+You have a father, and are here to meet him!
+
+Julia.  I'll not deny it.
+
+Wal.  You should blush for't.
+
+Julia.  No!
+No! no:  hear, Master Walter! what's a father
+That you've not been to me?  Nay, turn not from me,
+For at the name a holy awe I own,
+That now almost inclines my knee to earth!
+But thou to me, except a father's name,
+Hast all the father been:  the care--the love -
+The guidance--the protection of a father.
+Canst wonder, then, if like thy child I feel, -
+And feeling so, that father's claim forget
+Whom ne'er I knew save by the name of one?
+Oh, turn to me, and do not chide me! or
+If thou wilt chide, chide on! but turn to me!
+
+Wal.  [Struggling with emotion.]  My Julia!
+[Embraces her.]
+
+Julia.  Now, dear Master Walter, hear me!
+Is there no way to 'scape these nuptials?
+
+Wal.  Julia,
+A promise made admits not of release,
+Save by consent or forfeiture of those
+Who hold it--so it should be pondered well
+Before we let it go.  Ere man should say
+I broke the word I had the power to keep,
+I'd lose the life I had the power to part with!
+Remember, Julia, thou and I to-day
+Must, to thy father, of thy training render
+A strict account.  While honour's left to us,
+We have something--nothing, having all but that.
+Now for thy last act of obedience, Julia!
+Present thyself before thy bridegroom!  [She assents.]  Good!
+My Julia's now herself!  Show him thy heart,
+And to his honour leave't to set thee free
+Or hold thee bound.  Thy father will be by!
+
+
+SCENE III.--The Banqueting' Room.
+
+
+[Enter MASTER WALTER and MASTER HEARTWELL.]
+
+Heart.  Thanks, Master Walter!  Ne'er was child more bent
+To do her father's will, you'll own, than mine:
+Yet never one more froward.
+
+Wal.  All runs fair -
+Fair may all end!  To-day you'll learn the cause
+That took me out of town.  But soft a while, -
+Here comes the bridegroom, with his friends, and here
+The all-obedient bride.
+
+[Enter on one hand JULIA, and on the other hand LORD ROCHDALE with
+LORD TINSEL and friends--afterwards CLIFFORD.]
+
+Roch.  Is she not fair?
+
+Tin.  She'll do.  Your servant, lady!  Master Walter,
+We're glad to see you.  Sirs, you're welcome all.
+What wait they for?  Are we to wed or not?
+We're ready--why don't they present the bride?
+I hope they know she is to wed an earl.
+
+Roch.  Should I speak first?
+
+Tin.  Not for your coronet!
+I, as your friend, may make the first advance.
+We've come here to be married.  Where's the bride?
+
+Wal.  There stands she, lord; if 'tis her will to wed,
+His lordship's free to take her.
+
+Tin.  Not a step!
+I, as your friend, may lead her to your lordship.
+Fair lady, by your leave.
+
+Julia.  No! not to you.
+
+Tin.  I ask your hand to give it to his lordship.
+
+Julia.  Nor to his lordship--save he will accept
+My hand without my heart! but I'll present
+My knee to him, and, by his lofty rank,
+Implore him now to do a lofty deed
+Will lift its stately head above his rank, -
+Assert him nobler yet in worth than name, -
+And, in the place of an unwilling bride,
+Unto a willing debt or make him lord, -
+Whose thanks shall be his vassals, night and day
+That still shall wait upon him!
+
+Tin.  What means this?
+
+Julia.  What is't behoves a wife to bring her lord?
+
+Wal.  A whole heart, and a true one.
+
+Julia.  I have none!
+Not half a heart--the fraction of a heart!
+Am I a woman it befits to wed?
+
+Wal.  Why, where's thy heart?
+
+Julia.  Gone--out of my keeping!
+Lost, past recovery:  right and title to it -
+And all given up! and he that's owner on't,
+So fit to wear it, were it fifty hearts,
+I'd give it to him all!
+
+Wal.  Thou dost not mean
+His lordship's secretary?
+
+Julia.  Yes.  Away
+Disguises! in that secretary know
+The master of the heart, of which the poor,
+Unvalued, empty casket, at your feet -
+Its jewel gone--I now despairing throw!
+
+[Kneels.]
+
+Of his lord's bride he's lord! lord paramount!
+To whom her virgin homage first she paid, -
+'Gainst whom rebelled in frowardness alone,
+Nor knew herself how loyal to him, till
+Another claimed her duty--then awoke
+To sense of all she owed him--all his worth -
+And all her undeservings!
+
+Tin.  Lady, we came not here to treat of hearts, -
+But marriage; which, so please you, is with us
+A simple joining, by the priest, of hands.
+A ring's put on, a prayer or two is said;
+You're man and wife,--and nothing more!  For hearts,
+We oftener do without, than with them, lady!
+
+Clif.  So does not wed this lady!
+
+Tin.  Who are you?
+
+Clif.  I'm secretary to the Earl of Rochdale.
+
+Tin.  My lord!
+
+Roch.  I know him not -
+
+Tin.  I know him now -
+Your lordship's rival!  Once Sir Thomas Clifford.
+
+Clif.  Yes, and the bridegroom of that lady then,
+Then loved her--loves her still!
+
+Julia.  Was loved by her -
+Though then she knew it not!--is loved by her,
+As now she knows, and all the world may know!
+
+Tin.  We can't be laughed at.  We are here to wed,
+And shall fulfil our contract.
+
+Julia.  Clifford!
+
+Clif.  Julia!
+You will not give your hand?
+
+[A pause.  JULIA seems utterly lost.]
+
+Wal.  You have forgot
+Again.  You have a father!
+
+Julia.  Bring him now, -
+To see thy Julia justify thy training,
+And lay her life down to redeem her word!
+
+Wal.  And so redeems her all!  Is it your will,
+My lord, these nuptials should go on?
+
+Roch.  It is.
+
+Wal.  Then is it mine they stop!
+
+Tin.  I told your lordship
+You should not keep a Hunchback for your agent.
+
+Wal.  Thought like my father, my good lord, who said
+He would not have a Hunchback for his son -
+So do I pardon you the savage slight.
+My lord, that I am not as straight as you,
+Was blemish neither of my thought nor will,
+My head nor heart.  It was no act of mine. -
+Yet did it curdle Nature's kindly milk
+E'en where 'tis richest--in a parent's breast -
+To cast me out to heartless fosterage,
+Nor heartless always, as it proved--and give
+My portion to another! the same blood -
+But I'll be sworn, in vein, my lord, and soul -
+Although his trunk did swerve no more than yours -
+Not half so straight as I.
+
+Tin.  Upon my life
+You've got a modest agent, Rochdale!  Now
+He'll prove himself descended--mark my words -
+From some small gentleman
+
+Wal.  And so you thought,
+Where Nature played the churl, it would be fit
+That fortune played it too.  You would have had
+My lord absolve me of my agency!
+Fair lord, the flaw did cost me fifty times -
+A hundred times my agency:- but all's
+Recovered.  Look, my lord, a testament
+To make a pension of his lordship's rent-roll!
+It is my father's, and was left by him,
+In case his heir should die without a son,
+Then to be opened.  Heaven did send a son
+To bless the heir.  Heaven took its gift away,
+He died--his father died.  And Master Walter -
+The unsightly agent of his lordship there -
+The Hunchback whom your lordship would have stripped
+Of his agency--is now the Earl of Rochdale!
+
+Tin.  We've made a small mistake here.  Never mind,
+'Tis nothing in a lord.
+
+Julia.  The Earl of Rochdale!
+
+Wal.  And what of that?  Thou know'st not half my greatness!
+A prouder title, Julia, have I yet,
+Sooner than part with which I'd give that up,
+And be again plain Master Walter.  What!
+Dost thou not apprehend me?  Yes, thou dost!
+Command thyself; don't gasp.  My pupil--daughter!
+Come to thy father's heart!
+
+[JULIA rushes into his arms.]
+
+[Enter FATHOM.]
+
+Fath.  Thievery!  Elopement--escape--arrest!
+
+Wal.  What's the matter?
+
+Fath.  Mistress Helen is running away with Master Modus--Master
+Modus is running away with Mistress Helen--but we have caught them,
+secured them, and here they come, to receive the reward of their
+merits.
+
+[Enter HELEN and MODUS, followed by Servants.]
+
+Helen.  I'll ne'er wed man, if not my cousin Modus.
+
+Mod.  Nor woman I, save cousin Helen's she.
+
+Wal.  [To MASTER HEARTWELL.]  A daughter, have you, and a nephew,
+too,
+Without their match in duty!  Let them marry.
+For you, sir, who to-day have lost an earldom,
+Yet would have shared that earldom with my child -
+My only one--content yourself with prospect
+Of the succession; it must fall to you,
+And fit yourself to grace it.  Ape not those
+Who rank by pride.  The man of simplest bearing
+Is yet a lord, when he's a lord indeed!
+
+Tin.  The paradox is obsolete.  Ne'er heed!
+Learn from his book, and practise out of mine!
+
+Wal.  Sir Thomas Clifford, take my daughter's hand!
+If now you know the master of her heart!
+Give it, my Julia!  You suspect, I see,
+And rightly, there has been some masking here.
+Content thee, daughter, thou shalt know anon,
+How jealousy of my mis-shapen back
+Made me mistrustful of a child's affections -
+Who doubted e'en a wife's--so that I dropped
+The title of thy father, lest thy duty
+Should pay the debt thy love could solve alone.
+All this and more, that to thy friends and thee
+Pertains, at fitting time thou shalt be told.
+But now thy nuptials wait--the happy close
+Of thy hard trial--wholesome, though severe!
+The world won't cheat thee now--thy heart is proved; -
+Thou know'st thy peace by finding out its bane,
+And ne'er will act from reckless impulse more!
+
+
+
+Footnotes:
+
+
+
+{1}  The other play, The Love-Chase, is released in a separated
+eText with Project Gutenberg and not included here.--DP.
+
+{2}  In representation, the passages following this are curtailed
+and the scene runs as follows:-
+
+Master Walter continues -
+The first side shows their passion in the dawn -
+In the next side 'tis shining open day -
+In the third there's clouding--I but touch on these
+To make a long tale brief, and bring thee to
+The last side.
+
+Julia.  What shows that?
+
+Wal.  The fate of love
+That will not be advised.--The scene's a dungeon,
+Its tenant is the page--he lies in fetters.
+
+Julia.  Hard!
+Hard as the steel, the hands that put them on! &c.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Hunchback, by J. S. Knowles
+
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