_Wal_. Is he gone?

_Julia_. He is this moment. If thou covetest me, Win me, and wear me! May I trust thee? Oh!

If that's thy soul, that's looking through thine eyes, Thou lovest me, and I may!--I sicken, lest I never see thee more!

_Clif_. As life is mine, The ring that on thy wedding-finger goes No hand but mine shall place there!

_Wal_. Lingers he?

_Julia_. For my sake, now away! And yet a word.

By all thy hopes most dear, be true to me!

Go now!--yet stay! Clifford, while you are here, I'm like a bark distressed and compa.s.sless, That by a beacon steers; when you're away, That bark alone and tossing miles at sea!

Now go! Farewell! My compa.s.s--beacon--land!

When shall my eyes be blessed with thee again!

_Clif_. Farewell! [Goes out.]

_Julia_. Art gone? All's chance--all's care--all's darkness.

[Is led off by MASTER WALTER.]

ACT V.

SCENE I.--An Apartment in the Earl of Rochdale's.

[Enter HELEN and FATHOM.]

_Fath_. The long and short of it is this--if she marries this lord, she'll break her heart! I wish you could see her, madam. Poor lady!

_Helen_. How looks she, prithee?

_Fath_. Marry, for all the world like a dripping-wet cambric handkerchief! She has no colour nor strength in her; and does nothing but weep--poor lady!

_Helen_. Tell me again what said she to thee?

_Fath_. She offered me all she was mistress of to take the letter to Master Clifford. She drew her purse from her pocket--the ring from her finger--she took her very earrings out of her ears--but I was forbidden, and refused. And now I'm sorry for it! Poor lady!

_Helen_. Thou shouldst be sorry. Thou hast a hard heart, Fathom.

_Fath_. I, madam! My heart is as soft as a woman's. You should have seen me when I came out of her chamber--poor lady!

_Helen_. Did you cry?

_Fath_. No; but I was as near it as possible. I a hard heart! I would do anything to serve her, poor sweet lady!

_Helen_. Will you take her letter, asks she you again?

_Fath_. No--I am forbid.

_Helen_. Will you help Master Clifford to an interview with her?

_Fath_. No--Master Walter would find it out.

_Helen_. Will you contrive to get me into her chamber?

_Fath_. No--you would be sure to bring me into mischief.

_Helen_. Go to! You would do nothing to serve her. You a soft heart!

You have no heart at all! You feel not for her!

_Fath_. But I tell you I do--and good right I have to feel for her. I have been in love myself.

_Helen_. With your dinner!

_Fath_. I would it had been! My pain would soon have been over, and at little cost. A fortune I squandered upon her!--trinkets--tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs--treatings--what swallowed up the revenue of a whole year! Wasn't I in love? Six months I courted her, and a dozen crowns all but one did I disburse for her in that time! Wasn't I in love? An hostler--a tapster--and a constable, courted her at the same time, and I offered to cudgel the whole three of them for her! Wasn't I in love?

_Helen_. You are a valiant man, Fathom.

_Fath_. Am not I? Walks not the earth the man I am afraid of.

_Helen_. Fear you not Master Walter?

_Fath_. No.

_Helen_. You do!

_Fath_. I don't!

_Helen_. I'll prove it to you. You see him breaking your young mistress's heart, and have not the manhood to stand by her.

_Fath_. What could I do for her?

_Helen_. Let her out of prison. It were the act of a man.

_Fath_. That man am I!

_Helen_. Well said, brave Fathom!

_Fath_. But my place!

_Helen_. I'll provide thee with a better one.

_Fath_. 'Tis a capital place! So little to do, and so much to get for't. Six pounds in the year; two suits of livery; shoes and stockings, and a famous larder. He'd be a bold man that would put such a place in jeopardy. My place, madam, my place!

_Helen_. I tell thee I'll provide thee with a better place. Thou shalt have less to do, and more to get. Now, Fathom, hast thou courage to stand by thy mistress?