[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.]