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 Thomas Clifford, baronet."
_Clif_. Indeed!
Whence comes that letter?
_Ste_. From abroad.
_Clif_. Which is it?
_Ste_. So please you, this, Sir Thomas.
_Clif_. Give it me.
_Ste_. That letter brings not news to wish him joy upon. If he was disturbed before, which I guessed by his looks he was, he is not more at ease now. His hand to his head! A most unwelcome letter! If it brings him news of disaster, fortune does not give him his deserts; for never waited servant upon a kinder master.
_Clif_. Stephen!
_Ste_. Sir Thomas!
_Clif_. From my door remove The plate that bears my name.
_Ste_. The plate, Sir Thomas!
_Clif_. The plate--collect my servants and instruct them To make out each their claims, unto the end Of their respective terms, and give them in To my steward. Him and them apprise, good fellow, That I keep house no more. As you go home, Call at my coachmaker"s and bid him stop The carriage I bespoke. The one I have Send with my horses to the mart whereat Such things are sold by auction. They"re for sale; Pack up my wardrobe, have my trunks conveyed To the inn in the next street; and when that"s done, Go round my tradesmen and collect their bills, And bring them to me at the inn.
_Ste_. The inn!
_Clif_. Yes; I go home no more. Why, what"s the matter?
What has fallen out to make your eyes fill up?
You"ll get another place. I"ll certify You"re honest and industrious, and all That a servant ought to be.
_Ste_. I see, Sir Thomas, Some great misfortune has befallen you?
_Clif_. No!
I have health; I have strength; my reason, Stephen, and A heart that"s clear in truth, with trust in G.o.d.
No great disaster can befall the man Who"s still possessed of these! Good fellow, leave me.
What you would learn, and have a right to know, I would not tell you now. Good Stephen, hence!
Mischance has fallen on me--but what of that?
Mischance has fallen on many a better man.
I prithee leave me. I grow sadder while I see the eye with which you view my grief.
"Sdeath, they will out! I would have been a man, Had you been less a kind and gentle one.
Now, as you love me, leave me.
_Ste_. Never master So well deserved the love of him that served him.
[STEPHEN goes out.]
_Clif_. Misfortune liketh company; it seldom Visits its friends alone. Ha! Master Walter, And ruffled too. I"m in no mood for him.
[Enter MASTER WALTER.]
_Wal_. So, Sir--Sir Thomas Clifford! what with speed And choler--I do gasp for want of breath.
_Clif_. Well, Master Walter?
_Wal_. You"re a rash young man, sir; Strong-headed and wrong-headed, and I fear, sir, Not over delicate in that fine sense Which men of honour pride themselves upon!
_Clif_. Well, Master Walter?
_Wal_. A young woman"s heart, sir, Is not a stone to carve a posy on!
Which knows not what is writ on"t; which you may buy, Exchange, or sell, sir, keep or give away, sir: It is a richer--yet a poorer thing; Priceless to him that owns and prizes it; Worthless, when owned, not prized; which makes the man That covets it, obtains it, and discards it-- A fool, if not a villain, sir.
_Clif_. Well, sir?