Clif.

You're happy.

Jul.

I trust

Happy! Very, very happy!

You see, I weep, I am so happy! Tears

Are signs, you know, of nought but happiness.
When first I saw you, little did I look

To be so happy. Clifford !

Clif.

Jul.

Madam?

Madam!

I call thee Clifford, and thou call'st me Madam !
Clif. Such the address my duty stints me to.
Thou art the wife-elect of a proud Earl, -

Whose humble Secretary sole am I.

Jul. Most right! I had forgot: I thank you, sir, For so reminding me; and give you joy

That what, I see, had been a burden to you

Is fairly off your hands.

Clif.

A burden to me!

Mean you yourself? Are you that burden, Julia?
Say that the Sun's a burden to the Earth;

Say that the blood's a burden to the heart;
Say health's a burden, peace, contentment, joy,
Fame, riches, honours; every thing that man
Desires, and gives the name of blessing to,
E'en such a burden Julia were to me,

Had fortune let me wear her.

Jul. [Aside.]

On the brink

Of what a precipice I'm standing! Back,
Back! while the faculty remains to do't:

A minute longer, not the whirlpool's self's

More sure to suck thee down. One effort! [Sits.]

There!

[Recovers her self-possession, and reads the letter.

To wed to-morrow night! Wed whom? A man

Whom I can never love! I should before

Have thought of that.

To-morrow night! this hour

To-morrow! How I tremble! Happy bands,

At what means

To which my heart such freezing welcome gives,
As sends an ague through me!
Will not the desperate snatch!

What's honour's price?

Nor friends, nor lovers; no, nor life itself! —
Clifford, this moment leave me !

[CLIFFORD retires up the stage. And is he gone?

O docile lover! Do his mistress' wish

That went against his own!

Do it so soon!

Ere well 'twas utter'd! No good-bye to her!

No word! no look! 'Twas best that so he went.

Alas! the strait of her who owns that best

Which last she'd wish were done!
To weep, to weep!

What's left me now?

[Leans her head upon her arm, which rests upon the table,

her other arm hanging listless at her side. CLIFFORD comes down the stage, looks a moment at her, approaches her, and kneeling, takes her hand.

Clif. [With stifled emotion.] My Julia!

Here again?

Jul.
Up! up! By all thy hopes of Heaven, go hence!
To stay's perdition to me! Look you, Clifford,
Were there a grave where thou art kneeling now
I'd walk into't, and be inearth'd alive,
Ere taint should touch my name.

Should some one come

And see thee kneeling thus! Let go my hand!
Remember, Clifford, I'm a promised bride;
And take thy arm away: it has no right

To clasp my waist. Judge you so poorly of me,
As think I'll suffer this? My honour, sir!

[She breaks from him, quitting her seat; he rises I'm glad you've forced me to respect myself;

You'll find that I can do so!

Clif.

I was bold,

Forgetful of your station and my own.
There was a time I held your hand unchid;

There was a time I might have clasp'd your waist;

I had forgot that time was past and gone:

I pray you, pardon me.
Jul. [Softened.]

Clif. I shall no more offend.

Jul.

No longer is it fit thou keep'st thy post

In's Lordship's household.

An hour remain not in it.

Clif.

Jul.

I do so, Clifford.

Make sure of that.

Give it up. A day,

Wherefore?

Live

In the same house with me, and I another's?

Put miles, put leagues between us ! The same land
Should not contain us: oceans should divide us,
With barriers of constant tempests, such
As mariners durst not tempt! O Clifford !
Rash was the act so light that gave me up,
That stung a woman's pride, and drove her mad,
Till, in her frenzy, she destroy'd her peace:
O, it was rashly done! Had you reproved,
Expostulated, had you reason'd with me,
Tried to find out what was indeed my heart,

I would have shown it, you'd have seen it. All
Had been as nought can ever be again!

Clif. Lovest thou me, Julia?

Jul. Then take me! Stop,
Let not thy passion be my counsellor!
Deal with me, Clifford, as my brother. Be
The jealous guardian of my spotless name!
Win me and wear me! May I trust thee?
If that's thy soul, that's looking through thine eye,
Thou lovest me, and I may!

hear me, and take me then

Clif

As life is mine,

The ring that goes thy wedding finger on,
No hand save mine shall place there!

Jul.

Yet a word:

By all thy hopes most dear, be true to me!
Go now; yet stay! O Clifford while you're here,
I'm like a bark distress'd and compassless,
That by a beacon steers; — when you're away,
That bark alone, and tossing miles at sea!
Now go! Farewell! My compass-beacon
When shall mine eyes be bless'd with thee again?
Clif. Farewell!

land!

[Exeunt.

ACT V. SCENE I.

The courtship of an

CHARACTERS: HELEN and MODUS.

artful girl and bashful lover. MODUS, while at college, reads Ovid's "Art of Love," but fails in the practical part of it Love finally triumphs over bashful

until taught by HELEN.

ness, with happy result.

HELEN and MODUS stand at opposite wings, make a long pause, then bashfully look at each other.

What! will you stand by
Cousin Modus,
Have you not eyes?

Hel. Why, cousin Modus!
And see me forced to marry?
Have you not got a tongue?
Do you not see I'm very-very ill?
And not a chair in all the corridor?

Mod. I'll find one in the study.
Hel. Hang the study!

Mod. My room's at hand.

[Going.

I'll fetch one thence. [Going.

Hel. You sha'n't! I'll faint ere you come back!
Mod. What shall I do?

Hel. Why don't you offer to support me? Well,

be quick! [MODUS offers his arm.] Is

To help a lady when she's like to faint?

I'll drop unless you catch me!

[Falls against him.

I'm better now.

He supports her.] That will do ; [He offers to leave her.]

is one well

Don't leave me!

Because one's better? Hold my hand. Keep so.

Hel. And would you have me marry? Can't you speak?

Women, you know, are fond of reasons-why
Would you not have me marry? How you blush!
You mind me of a story of a cousin

Who once her cousin such a question asked.
He had not been to college, though; for books,
Had pass'd his time in reading ladies' eyes,
Which he could construe marvellously well.
Thus stood they once together, on a day, -
As we stand now, discoursed, as we discourse, -
As now I question'd thee, she question'd him,
And what was his reply? To think of it

Sets my heart beating, 'twas so kind a one,
So like a cousin's answer, a dear cousin,
A gentle, honest, gallant, loving cousin!
What did he say? A man might find it out,
Though never read he Ovid's "Art of Love."