SCENE VII. Verona. JULIA'S house. Two Gentlemen of Verona  Shakespeare homepage  |  Two Gentlemen of Verona  | Act 2, Scene 7 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE VII. Verona. JULIA'S house. 

 Enter JULIA and LUCETTA  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! 

 JULIA  Now, as thou lovest me, do him not that wrong 

 To bear a hard opinion of his truth: 

 Only deserve my love by loving him; 

 And presently go with me to my chamber, 

 To take a note of what I stand in need of, 

 To furnish me upon my longing journey. 

 All that is mine I leave at thy dispose, 

 My goods, my lands, my reputation; 

 Only, in lieu thereof, dispatch me hence. 

 Come, answer not, but to it presently! 

 I am impatient of my tarriance. 



 Exeunt  Shakespeare homepage  |  Two Gentlemen of Verona  | Act 2, Scene 7 

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