William Shakespeare - Ultimate Collection: Complete Plays & Poetry in One Volume. William ShakespeareЧитать онлайн книгу.
Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit.
SPEED.
And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse.
PROTEUS.
Come, come; open the matter; in brief: what said she?
SPEED. Open your purse, that the money and the matter may be both at once delivered.
PROTEUS. Well, sir, here is for your pains [giving him money]. What said she?
SPEED.
Truly, sir, I think you’ll hardly win her.
PROTEUS.
Why, couldst thou perceive so much from her?
SPEED. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no, not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter; and being so hard to me that brought your mind, I fear she’ll prove as hard to you in telling your mind. Give her no token but stones, for she’s as hard as steel.
PROTEUS.
What! said she nothing?
SPEED. No, not so much as ‘Take this for thy pains.’ To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testerned me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself; and so, sir, I’ll commend you to my master.
PROTEUS.
Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wrack;
Which cannot perish, having thee aboard,
Being destin’d to a drier death on shore.—
[Exit SPEED.]
I must go send some better messenger.
I fear my Julia would not deign my lines,
Receiving them from such a worthless post.
[Exit.]
SCENE 2. THe same. The garden Of JULIA’S house.
[Enter JULIA and LUCETTA.]
JULIA.
But say, Lucetta, now we are alone,
Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love?
LUCETTA.
Ay, madam; so you stumble not unheedfully.
JULIA.
Of all the fair resort of gentlemen
That every day with parle encounter me,
In thy opinion which is worthiest love?
LUCETTA.
Please you, repeat their names; I’ll show my mind
According to my shallow simple skill.
JULIA.
What think’st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour?
LUCETTA.
As of a knight well-spoken, neat, and fine;
But, were I you, he never should be mine.
JULIA.
What think’st thou of the rich Mercatio?
LUCETTA.
Well of his wealth; but of himself, so so.
JULIA.
What think’st thou of the gentle Proteus?
LUCETTA.
Lord, Lord! to see what folly reigns in us!
JULIA.
How now! what means this passion at his name?
LUCETTA.
Pardon, dear madam; ‘tis a passing shame
That I, unworthy body as I am,
Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.
JULIA.
Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest?
LUCETTA.
Then thus,—of many good I think him best.
JULIA.
Your reason?
LUCETTA.
I have no other but a woman’s reason:
I think him so, because I think him so.
JULIA.
And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him?
LUCETTA.
Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.
JULIA.
Why, he, of all the rest, hath never moved me.
LUCETTA.
Yet he, of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.
JULIA.
His little speaking shows his love but small.
LUCETTA.
Fire that’s closest kept burns most of all.
JULIA.
They do not love that do not show their love.
LUCETTA.
O! they love least that let men know their love.
JULIA.
I would I knew his mind.
LUCETTA.
Peruse this paper, madam. [Gives a letter.]
JULIA.
‘To Julia’—Say, from whom?
LUCETTA.
That the contents will show.
JULIA.
Say, say, who gave it thee?
LUCETTA.
Sir Valentine’s page, and sent, I think, from Proteus.
He would have given it you; but I, being in the way,
Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault, I pray.
JULIA.
Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker!
Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines?
To whisper and conspire against my youth?
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;
Or else return no more into my sight.
LUCETTA.
To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.
JULIA.
Will ye be gone?
LUCETTA.
That you may ruminate.
[Exit.]
JULIA.
And yet, I would I had o’erlook’d the letter.
It were a shame to call her back again,
And pray her to a fault for which I chid her.
What fool is she, that knows I am a maid
And would not force the letter to my view!
Since maids, in modesty, say ‘No’ to that
Which they would have the profferer construe ‘Ay.’
Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love,
That like a testy babe will scratch the nurse,
And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod!
How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,
When willingly I would have had her here:
How angerly I taught my brow to frown,
When inward joy enforc’d my heart to smile.
My penance is, to call Lucetta back
And ask remission for my folly past.
What ho! Lucetta!