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Jul. What is't that you
Took up so gingerly?

Luc. Nothing
Jul. Why didst thou stoop then ?
Luc. To take a paper up, that I let fall.
Jul. And is that paper nothing ?
Luc. Nothing concerning me.
Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns.

Luc. Madam, it will not lie, where it concerns;
Unless it have a false interpreter.

Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhime.

Luc. That I might fing it, madam, to a tune : Give me a note; your ladyship can fet.

Jul. As little by such toys as may be possible:
Best sing it to the tune of Light o`love.

Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune.
Jul. Heavy? belike, it hath some burthen then.
Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it.
Jul. And why not you?
Luc. I cannot reach so high.

Jul. Let's see your song:
How now, minion?

Luc. Keep tune there ftill, so you will fing it out : And

yet, methinks, I do not like this tune.
Jul. You do not?
Luc. No, madam, 'tis too sharp.
Jul. You, minion, are too faucy.

Luc. Nay, now you are too flat.
And mar the concord with too harsh a descant :
There wanteth but a mean, to fill your song,

Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base.
Luc. Indeed, I bid the base for Protheus.

Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me. Here is a coil with protestation!

(Tears it. Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie : You would be fingering them, to anger me. (pleas'd

Luc. She makes it ftrange, but she would be best To be so anger'd with another letter. [Exit.


Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same! Oh hateful hands, to tear such loving words ! Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey, And kill the bees, that yield it, with your stings! I'll kiss each several paper for amends : Look, here is writ kind Julia ;-Unkind Julia ! As in revenge of thy ingratitude, I throw thy name against the bruising stones; Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain. Look, here is writ, Love-wounded Protheus. Poor wounded name! my bosom, as a bed, Shall lodge thee, 'till thy wound be throughly heal’d; And thus I search it with a sov'reign kiss. But twice, or thrice, was Protheus written down; Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away, 'Till I have found each letter in the letter, Except mine own name: That some whirl-wind bear Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock, And throw it thence into the raging fea! Lo, here in one Line is his name twice writ: Poor forlorn Protheus, passionate Protheus, To the fureet Julia : that I'll tear away ; And yet I will not, fith so prettily He couples it to his complaining names: Thus will I fold them one upon another; Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.

Enter Lucetta. Luc. Madam, dinner is ready, and your father stays. Jul. Well, let us go. Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here? Jul. If thou respect theni, best to take them up.

Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down: Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold.

Jul. I fee, you have a month's mind to them.

Luc. Ay, madam, you may say what fights you fee: I see things too, although you judge I wink. Jul. Come, come, will’t please you go? (Exeunt.


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ELL me, Panthion, what fad talk was that,



cloister? Pant. 'Twas of his nephew Protheus, your

fon. Ant. Why, what of him?

Pant. He wonder'd that your lordship
Would suffer him to spend his youth at home,
While other men of slender reputation
Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:
Some to the wars, to try their fortune there;
Some, to discover Islands far away ;
Some, to the studious universities.
For any, or for all these exercises,
He said, that Protheus your son was meet:
And did request me to importune you,
To let him spend his time no more at home;
Which would be great impeachment to his age, ,
In having known no travel in his youth.

Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that,
Whereon this month I have been hammering.
I have consider'd well his loss of time;
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being try'd, and tutord in the world:
Experience is by industry atchiev’d,
And perfected by the swift course of time:
Then tell me, whither were I best to send him?

Pant. I think, your lordship is not ignoran,
How his companion, youthful Valentine,
Attends the Emperor in his royal court.

Ant. I know it well.
Pant. 'Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him


There shall he practise tilts and tournaments,
Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen;
And be in eye of every exercise,
Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.

Ant. I like thy counsel; well haft thou advis'd :
And that thou may'st perceive how well I like it,
The execution of it shall make known;
Ev’n with the specdieft expedition
I will dispatch him to the Emperor's court.

Pant. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Alphonso, With other gentlemen of good esteem, Are journeying to falute the Emperor; And to commend their service to his will.

Ant. Good company: with them shall Protheus go. And, in good time, now will we break with him.

Enter Protheus.
Pro. Sweet love, sweet lines, sweet life!
Here is her hand, the agent of her heart;
Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn,
Oh! that our fathers would applaud our loves,
To seal our happiness with their consents !
Oh heav'nly Julia!

Ant. How now? what letter are you reading there?

Pro. May’t please your lordship, 'tis a word or two Of commendation sent from Valentine ; Deliver'd by a friend that came from him.

Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news.

Pro. There is no news, my lord, but that he writes How happily he lives, how well belov’d, And daily graced by the Emperor; Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.

Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish ?

Pro. As one relying on your lordship’s will, And not depending on his friendly with.

Ant My will is something forted with his wish : Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed; For what I will, I will; and there's an end.

I am resolv'd, that thou shalt spend some time
With Valentine in the Emp'ror's court:
What maintenance he from his friends receives,
Like exhibition thou shalt have from me:
To-morrow be in readiness to go.
Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.

Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided ;
Please to deliberate a day or two.

[thee : Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent after No more of stay; to-morrow thou must

go. Come on, Panthion; you shall be employ'd. To haften on his expedition. (Exe. Ant. and Pant. Pro. Thus have I shun'd the fire, for fear of burn

ing; And drench'd me in the Sea, where I am drown'd: I fear'd to shew my father Julia's letter, Left he should take exceptions to my love; And with the vantage of mine own excuse, Hath he excepted most against my love. Oh, how this spring of love resembleth

Th'uncertain glory of an April day;
Which now shews all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by, a cloud takes all away!

Enter Panthion.
Pant. Sir Protheus, your father calls for you;
He is in haste, therefore, I pray you, go.

Pro. Why, this it is, my heart accords thereto : And yet a thousand times it answers, no. Exeunt.

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