Page 1892 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

LUCET T A

Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.

JULIA [She tears the letter]

This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.
Here is a coil with protestation.

Go, get you gone, and let the papers lie. [100]
You would be fingering them, to anger me.

LUCET T A

She makes it strange, but she would be best pleased
To be so angered with another letter.

[Exit]

JULIA

[gathering up the pieces of the letter]
Nay, would I were so angered with the same!
O, hateful hands, to tear such loving words. [105]
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, [110]
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 throughly healed; [115]
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 [120]
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; [125]
And yet I will not, sith so prettily
He couples it to his complaining names.