Two Gentlemen of Verona (Folio 1, 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
¶
Scœna Secunda.
¶
Enter Iulia and Lucetta.
¶That euery day with par'le encounter me,
¶In thy opinion which is worthiest loue?
¶But were I you, he neuer should be mine.
¶That I (vnworthy body as I am)
¶Should censure thus on louely Gentlemen.
¶Iul. I would I knew his minde.
¶He would haue giuen it you, but I being in the way,
¶Did in your name receiue it: pardon the fault I pray.
195Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines?
¶Now trust me, 'tis an office of great worth,
¶And you an officer fit for the place:
¶There: take the paper: see it be return'd,
¶Iul. Will ye be gon?
¶Iul. And yet I would I had ore-look'd the Letter;
205It were a shame to call her backe againe,
¶And pray her to a fault, for which I chid her.
¶What 'foole is she, that knowes I am a Maid,
¶And would not force the letter to my view?
210Which they would haue the profferer construe, I.
¶Fie, fie: how way-ward is this foolish loue;
¶How churlishly, I chid Lucetta hence,
215When willingly, I would haue had her here?
¶How angerly I taught my brow to frowne,
¶When inward ioy enforc'd my heart to smile?
¶My pennance is, to call Lucetta backe
220What hoe: Lucetta.
¶Iul. Is't neere dinner time?
¶Lu. I would it were,
¶That you might kill your stomacke on your meat,
225And not vpon your Maid.
¶Iu. What is't that you
¶Tooke vp so gingerly?
¶Lu. Nothing.
230Lu. To take a paper vp, that I let fall.
¶Iul. And is that paper nothing?
¶Lu. Nothing concerning me.
¶Lu. Madam, it will not lye where it concernes,
¶Iul. Some loue of yours, hath writ to you in Rime.
¶Iu. And why not you?
¶How now Minion?
¶And yet me thinkes I do not like this tune.
250Iu. You doe not?
¶Lu. Nay, now you are too flat;
255There wanteth but a Meane to fill your Song.
¶Here is a coile with protestation:
260Goe, get you gone: and let the papers lye:
¶You would be fingring them, to anger me.
¶To be so angred with another Letter.
265Oh hatefull hands, to teare such louing words;
¶And kill the Bees that yeelde it, with your stings;
¶Looke, here is writ, kinde Iulia: vnkinde Iulia,
270As in reuenge of thy ingratitude,
¶And here is writ, Loue wounded Protheus.
¶Poore wounded name: my bosome, as a bed,
275Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd;
¶But twice, or thrice, was Protheus written downe:
¶Be calme (good winde) blow not a word away,
¶Till I haue found each letter, in the Letter,
280Except mine own name: That, some whirle-winde beare
¶Vnto a ragged, fearefull, hanging Rocke,
¶And throw it thence into the raging Sea.
¶Loe, here in one line is his name twice writ:
285To the sweet Iulia: that ile teare away:
¶He couples it, to his complaining Names;
¶Thus will I fold them, one vpon another;
¶Iu. Well, let vs goe.
¶Lu. Nay, I was taken vp, for laying them downe.
295Yet here they shall not lye, for catching cold.
¶I see things too, although you iudge I winke.
