Speeches (Lines) for Lucetta in "The Two Gentlemen of Verona"

Julia. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone,
Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love?

Lucetta. Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheedfully.

Julia. Of all the fair resort of gentlemen
That every day with parle encounter me,
In thy opinion which is worthiest love?

Lucetta. Please you repeat their names, I'll show my mind
According to my shallow simple skill.

Julia. What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour?

Lucetta. As of a knight well-spoken, neat and fine;
But, were I you, he never should be mine.

Julia. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio?

Lucetta. Well of his wealth; but of himself, so so.

Julia. What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus?

Lucetta. Lord, Lord! to see what folly reigns in us!

Julia. How now! what means this passion at his name?

Lucetta. Pardon, dear madam: 'tis a passing shame
That I, unworthy body as I am,
Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.

Julia. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest?

Lucetta. Then thus: of many good I think him best.

Julia. Your reason?

Lucetta. I have no other, but a woman's reason;
I think him so because I think him so.

Julia. And wouldst thou have me cast my love on him?

Lucetta. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.

Julia. Why he, of all the rest, hath never moved me.

Lucetta. Yet he, of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.

Julia. His little speaking shows his love but small.

Lucetta. Fire that's closest kept burns most of all.

Julia. They do not love that do not show their love.

Lucetta. O, they love least that let men know their love.

Julia. I would I knew his mind.

Lucetta. Peruse this paper, madam.

Julia. 'To Julia.' Say, from whom?

Lucetta. That the contents will show.

Julia. Say, say, who gave it thee?

Lucetta. Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from Proteus.
He would have given it you; but I, being in the way,
Did in your name receive it: pardon the
fault I pray.

Julia. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker!
Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines?
To whisper and conspire against my youth?
Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth
And you an officer fit for the place.
Or else return no more into my sight.

Lucetta. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.

Julia. Will ye be gone?

Lucetta. That you may ruminate.

Julia. And yet I would I had o'erlooked the letter:
It were a shame to call her back again
And pray her to a fault for which I chid her.
What a fool is she, that knows I am a maid,
And would not force the letter to my view!
Since maids, in modesty, say 'no' to that
Which they would have the profferer construe 'ay.'
Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love
That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse
And presently all humbled kiss the rod!
How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,
When willingly I would have had her here!
How angerly I taught my brow to frown,
When inward joy enforced my heart to smile!
My penance is to call Lucetta back
And ask remission for my folly past.
What ho! Lucetta!

Lucetta. What would your ladyship?

Julia. Is't near dinner-time?

Lucetta. I would it were,
That you might kill your stomach on your meat
And not upon your maid.

Julia. What is't that you took up so gingerly?

Lucetta. Nothing.

Julia. Why didst thou stoop, then?

Lucetta. To take a paper up that I let fall.

Julia. And is that paper nothing?

Lucetta. Nothing concerning me.

Julia. Then let it lie for those that it concerns.

Lucetta. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns
Unless it have a false interpeter.

Julia. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme.

Lucetta. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune.
Give me a note: your ladyship can set.

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

Lucetta. It is too heavy for so light a tune.

Julia. Heavy! belike it hath some burden then?

Lucetta. Ay, and melodious were it, would you sing it.

Julia. And why not you?

Lucetta. I cannot reach so high.

Julia. Let's see your song. How now, minion!

Lucetta. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out:
And yet methinks I do not like this tune.

Julia. You do not?

Lucetta. No, madam; it is too sharp.

Julia. You, minion, are too saucy.

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

Julia. The mean is drown'd with your unruly bass.

Lucetta. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.

Julia. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.
Here is a coil with protestation!
[Tears the letter]
Go get you gone, and let the papers lie:
You would be fingering them, to anger me.

Lucetta. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleased
To be so anger'd with another letter.

Julia. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same!
O 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.
And here is writ 'love-wounded Proteus.'
Poor wounded name! my bosom as a bed
Shall lodge thee till thy wound be thoroughly heal'd;
And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
But twice or thrice was 'Proteus' 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 whirlwind bear
Unto a ragged fearful-hanging rock
And throw it thence into the raging sea!
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,
'Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia:' that I'll tear away.
And yet I will not, sith so prettily
He couples it to his complaining names.
Thus will I fold them one on another:
Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.

Lucetta. Madam,
Dinner is ready, and your father stays.

Julia. Well, let us go.

Lucetta. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here?

Julia. If you respect them, best to take them up.

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

Julia. I see you have a month's mind to them.

Lucetta. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see;
I see things too, although you judge I wink.

Julia. Counsel, Lucetta; gentle girl, assist me;
And even in kind love I do conjure thee,
Who art the table wherein all my thoughts
Are visibly character'd and engraved,
To lesson me and tell me some good mean
How, with my honour, I may undertake
A journey to my loving Proteus.

Lucetta. Alas, the way is wearisome and long!

Julia. A true-devoted pilgrim is not weary
To measure kingdoms with his feeble steps;
Much less shall she that hath Love's wings to fly,
And when the flight is made to one so dear,
Of such divine perfection, as Sir Proteus.

Lucetta. Better forbear till Proteus make return.

Julia. O, know'st thou not his looks are my soul's food?
Pity the dearth that I have pined in,
By longing for that food so long a time.
Didst thou but know the inly touch of love,
Thou wouldst as soon go kindle fire with snow
As seek to quench the fire of love with words.

Lucetta. I do not seek to quench your love's hot fire,
But qualify the fire's extreme rage,
Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason.

Julia. The more thou damm'st it up, the more it burns.
The current that with gentle murmur glides,
Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage;
But when his fair course is not hindered,
He makes sweet music with the enamell'ed stones,
Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge
He overtaketh in his pilgrimage,
And so by many winding nooks he strays
With willing sport to the wild ocean.
Then let me go and hinder not my course
I'll be as patient as a gentle stream
And make a pastime of each weary step,
Till the last step have brought me to my love;
And there I'll rest, as after much turmoil
A blessed soul doth in Elysium.

Lucetta. But in what habit will you go along?

Julia. Not like a woman; for I would prevent
The loose encounters of lascivious men:
Gentle Lucetta, fit me with such weeds
As may beseem some well-reputed page.

Lucetta. Why, then, your ladyship must cut your hair.

Julia. No, girl, I'll knit it up in silken strings
With twenty odd-conceited true-love knots.
To be fantastic may become a youth
Of greater time than I shall show to be.

Lucetta. What fashion, madam shall I make your breeches?

Julia. That fits as well as 'Tell me, good my lord,
What compass will you wear your farthingale?'
Why even what fashion thou best likest, Lucetta.

Lucetta. You must needs have them with a codpiece, madam.

Julia. Out, out, Lucetta! that would be ill-favour'd.

Lucetta. A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin,
Unless you have a codpiece to stick pins on.

Julia. Lucetta, as thou lovest me, let me have
What thou thinkest meet and is most mannerly.
But tell me, wench, how will the world repute me
For undertaking so unstaid a journey?
I fear me, it will make me scandalized.

Lucetta. If you think so, then stay at home and go not.

Julia. Nay, that I will not.

Lucetta. Then never dream on infamy, but go.
If Proteus like your journey when you come,
No matter who's displeased when you are gone:
I fear me, he will scarce be pleased withal.

Julia. That is the least, Lucetta, of my fear:
A thousand oaths, an ocean of his tears
And instances of infinite of love
Warrant me welcome to my Proteus.

Lucetta. All these are servants to deceitful men.

Julia. Base men, that use them to so base effect!
But truer stars did govern Proteus' birth
His words are bonds, his oaths are oracles,
His love sincere, his thoughts immaculate,
His tears pure messengers sent from his heart,
His heart as far from fraud as heaven from earth.

Lucetta. Pray heaven he prove so, when you come to him!