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Julia。 Helen！
Helen。 Indeed 'tis true。 With what a sorry grace
The gentleman will bear himself without
His title！ Master Clifford！ Have you not
Some token to return him？ Some love…letter？
Some brooch？ Some pin？ Some anything？ I'll be
Your messenger； for nothing but the pleasure
Of calling him plain 〃Master Clifford。〃
Julia。 Helen！
Helen。 Or has he aught of thine？ Write to him； Julia；
Demanding it！ Do； Julia； if you love me；
And I'll direct it in a schoolboy's hand；
As round as I can write； 〃To Master Clifford。〃
Julia。 Helen！
Helen。 I'll think of fifty thousand ways
To mortify him！ I've a twentieth cousin；
A care…for…nought； at mischief。 Him I'll set；
With twenty other madcaps like himself；
To walk the streets the traitor most frequents
And give him salutation as he passes …
〃How do you； Master Clifford？〃
Julia。 ＇Highly incensed。＇ Helen！
Helen。 Bless me！
Julia。 I hate you； Helen！
＇Enter MODUS。＇
Mod。 Joy for you； fair lady！
Our baronet is now plain gentleman …
And hardly that； not master of the means
To bear himself as such。 The kinsman lives
Whose only rumoured death gave wealth to him；
And title。 A hard creditor he proves；
Who keeps strict reckoningwill have interest。
As well as principal。 A ruined man
Is now Sir Thomas Clifford！
Helen。 I'm glad on't。
Mod。 And so am I；
A scurvy trick it was
He served you； madam。 Use a lady so！
I merely bore with him。 I never liked him。
Helen。 No more did I。 No； never could I think
He looked his title。
Mod。 No； nor acted it。
If rightly they report； he ne'er disbursed
To entertain his friends； 'tis broadly said；
A hundred pounds in the year！ He was most poor
In the appointments of a man of rank；
Possessing wealth like his。 His horses； hacks！
His gentleman； a footman！ and his footman；
A groom！ The sports that men of quality
And spirit countenance； he kept aloof from；
From scruple of economy； not taste； …
As racing and the like。 In brief； he lacked
Those shining points that； more than name； denote
High breeding； and； moreover； was a man
Of very shallow learning。
Julia。 Silence； sir！
For shame！
Helen。 Why； Julia！
Julia。 Speak not to me！ Poor！
Most poor！ I tell you； sir； he was the making
Of fifty gentlemeneach one of whom
Were more than peer for thee！ His title； sir；
Lent him no grace he did not pay it back！
Though it had been the highest of the high；
He would have looked it； felt it； acted it；
As thou couldst ne'er have done！ When found you out
You liked him not？ It was not ere to…day！
Or that base spirit I must reckon yours
Which smiles where it would scowlcan stoop to hate
And fear to show it！ He was your better； sir；
And is！Ay； is！ though stripped of rank and wealth；
His nature's 'bove or fortune's love or spite；
To blazon or to blurr it！ ＇Retires。＇
Mod。 ＇To HELEN。＇ I was told
Much to disparage himI know not wherefore。
Helen。 And so was I； and know as much the cause。
＇Enter MASTER WALTER； with parchments。＇
Wal。 Joy； my Julia！
Impatient love has foresight！ Lo you here
The marriage deeds filled up； except a blank
To write your jointure。 What you will； my girl！
Is this a lover？ Look！ Three thousand pounds
Per annum for your private charges！ Ha！
There's pin…money！ Is this a lover？ Mark
What acres； forests； tenements； are taxed
For your revenue； and so set apart；
That finger cannot touch them； save thine own。
Is this a lover？ What good fortune's thine！
Thou dost not speak； but； 'tis the way with joy！
With richest heart； it has the poorest tongue！
Mod。 What great good fortune's this you speak of； sir？
Wal。 A coronet； Master Modus！ You behold
The wife elect； sir； of no less a man
Than the new Earl of Rochdaleheir of him
That's recently deceased。
Helen。 My dearest Julia；
Much joy to you！
Mod。 All good attend you； madam！
Wal。 This letter brings excuses from his lordship；
Whose absence it accounts for。 He repairs
To his estate in Lancashire； and thither
We follow。
Julia。 When； sir？
Wal。 Now。 This very hour。
Julia。 This very hour！ O cruel； fatal haste！
Wal。 〃O cruel； fatal haste！〃 What meanest thou？
Have I done wrong to do thy bidding； then？
I have done no more。 Thou wast an offcast bride；
And wouldst be an affianced onethou art so！
Thou'dst have the slight that marked thee out for scorn；
Converted to a means of gracing thee …
It is so！ If our wishes come too soon；
What can make sure of welcome？ In my zeal
To win thee thine； thou know'st； at any time
I'd play the steed； whose will to serve his lord；
With his last breath gives his last bound for him！
Since only noon have I despatched what well
Had kept a brace of clerks； and more； on foot …
And then； perhaps； had been to do again！ …
Not finished sure； completethe compact firm；
As fate itself had sealed it！
Julia。 Give you thanks！
Though 'twere my death！ my death！
Wal。 Thy death！ indeed；
For happiness like this； one well might die！
Take thy lord's letter！ Well？
＇Enter THOMAS； with a letter。＇
Thos。 This letter； sir；
The gentleman that served Sir Thomas Clifford …
Or him that was Sir Thomasgave to me
For Mistress Julia。
Julia。 Give it me！
＇Throwing away the one she holds。＇
Wal。 ＇Snatching it。＇ For what？
Wouldst read it？ He's a bankrupt！ stripped of title；
House； chattels； lands； and all！ A naked bankrupt；
With neither purse； nor trust！ Wouldst read his letter？
A beggar！ Yea； a very beggar！fasts； unless
He dines on alms！ How durst he send thee a letter！
A fellow cut on this hand； and on that；
Bows and is cut again； and bows again！
Who pays you fifty smiles for half a one； …
And that given grudgingly！ To you a letter！
I burst with choler！ Thus I treat his letter！
＇Tears and throws it on the ground。＇
So！ I was wrong to let him ruffle me；
He is not worth the spending anger on！
I prithee； Master Modus； use despatch；
And presently make ready for our ride。
You； Helen； to my Julia looka change
Of dresses will suffice。 She must have new ones；
Matches for her new state！ Haste； friends。 My Julia！
Why stand you poring there upon the ground？
Time flies。 Your rise astounds you？ Never heed …
You'll play my lady countess like a queen！
＇They go out。＇
ACT IV。
SCENE I。A Room in the Earl of Rochdale's
＇Eater HELEN。＇
Helen。 I'm weary wandering from room to room；
A castle after all is but a house …
The dullest one when lacking company。
Were I at home； I could be company
Unto myself。 I see not Master Walter；
He's ever with his ward。 I see not her。
By Master Walter's will she bides alone。
My father stops in town。 I can't see him。
My cousin makes his books his company。
I'll go to bed and sleep。 NoI'll stay up
And plague my cousin into making love！
For； that he loves me； shrewdly I suspect。
How dull he is that hath not sense to see
What lies before him； and he'd like to find！
I'll change my treatment of him。 Cross him； where
Before I used to humour him。 He comes；
Poring upon a book。 What's that you read？
＇Enter MODUS。＇
Mod。 Latin； sweet cousin。
Helen。 'Tis a naughty tongue；
I fear； and teaches men to lie。
Mod。 To lie！
Helen。 You study it。 You call your cousin sweet；
And treat her as you would a crab。 As sour
'Twould seem you think her； as you covet her！
Why how the monster stares； and looks about！
You construe Latin； and can't construe that！
Mod。 I never studied women。
Helen。 No； nor men。
Else would you better know their ways： nor read
In presence of a lady。 ＇Strikes the book from his hand。＇
Mod。 Right you say；
And well you served me； cousin； so to strike
The volume from my hand。 I own my fault；
So please youmay I pick it up again？
I'll put it in my pocket！
Helen。 Pick it up。
He fears me as I were his grandmother！
What is the book？
Mod。 'Tis Ovid's Art of Love。
Helen。 That Ovid was a fool！
Mod。 In what？
Helen。 In that：
To call that thing an art； which art is none。
Mod。 And is not love an art？
Helen。 Are you a fool；
As well as Ovid？ Love an art！ No art
But taketh time and pains to learn。 Love comes
With neither！ Is't to hoard such grain as that；
You went to college？ Better stay at home；
And study homely English。
Mod。 Nay； you know not
The argument。
Helen。 I don't？ I know it better
Than ever Ovid did！ The facethe form …
The heartthe mind we fancy； cousin； that's
The argument！ Why； cousin； you know nothing。
Suppose a lady were in love with thee：
Couldst thou by Ovid； cousin； find it out？
Couldst find it out； wast thou in love thyself？
Could Ovid； cousin； teach thee to make love？
I could； that never read him！ You begin
With melancholy； then to sadness； then
To sickness； then to dyingbut not die！
She would not let thee； were she of my mind！
She'd take compassion on thee。 Then for hope；
From hope to confidence； from confidence
To boldness；then you'd speak； at first entreat；
Then urge； then flout； then argue； then enforce；
Make prisoner of her hand； besiege her waist；
Threaten her lips with storming； keep thy word
And carry her！ My sampler 'gainst thy Ovid！
Why cousin； are you frightened； that you stand
As you w