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