Julia. And what of that?
Have your town-palaces a hall like this?
Couches so fragrant? walls so high-adorned?
Casements with such festoons, such prospects, Helen,
As these fair vistas have? Your kings and queens!
See me a May-day queen, and talk of them!
Helen. Extremes are ever neighbours. ’Tis a step
From one to the other! Were thy constancy
A reasonable thing—a little less
Of constancy—a woman’s constancy—
I should not wonder wert thou ten years hence
The maid I know thee now; but, as it is,
The odds are ten to one, that this day year
Will see our May-day queen a city one!
Julia. Never! I’m wedded to a country life:
O, did you hear what Master Walter says!
Nine times in ten the town’s a hollow thing,
Where what things are is nought to what they show;
Where merit’s name laughs merit’s self to scorn!
Where friendship and esteem that ought to be
The tenants of men’s hearts, lodge in their looks
And tongues alone. Where little virtue, with
A costly keeper, passes for a heap;
A heap for none that has a homely one!
Where fashion makes the law—your umpire which
You bow to, whether it has brains or not!
Where Folly taketh off his cap and bells,
To clap on Wisdom, which must bear the jest!
Where to pass current you must seem the thing,
The passive thing, that others think; and not
Your simple, honest, independent self!
Helen. Ay: so says Master Walter. See I not
What can you find in Master Walter, Julia,
To be so fond of him!
Julia. He’s fond of me!
I’ve known him since I was a child. E’en then,
The week I thought a weary, heavy one,
That brought not Master Walter. I had those
About me then that made a fool of me,
As children oft are fooled; but more I loved
Good Master Walter’s lesson than the play
With which they’d surfeit me. As I grew up,
More frequent Master Walter came, and more
I loved to see him! I had tutors then,
Men of great skill and learning—but not one
That taught like Master Walter. What they’d show me,
And I, dull as I was, but doubtful saw,—
A word from Master Walter made as clear
As daylight! When my schooling days were o’er—
That’s now good three years past—three years—I vow
I’m twenty, Helen!—well, as I was saying,
When I had done with school, and all were gone,
Still Master Walter came! and still he comes,
Summer or winter—frost or rain! I’ve seen
The snow upon a level with the hedge,
Yet there was Master Walter!
Helen. Who comes here?
A carriage, and a gay one—who alights?
Pshaw! Only Master Walter! What see you,
Which thus repairs the arch of the fair brow,
A frown was like to spoil?—A gentleman!
One of our town kings! Mark!—How say you now?
Wouldst be a town queen, Julia? Which of us,
I wonder, comes he for?
Julia. For neither of us;
He’s Master Walter’s clerk, most like.
Helen. Most like!
Mark him as he comes up the avenue;
So looks a clerk! A clerk has such a gait!
So does a clerk dress, Julia!—mind his hose—
They’re very like a clerk’s! a diamond loop
And button, note you, for his clerkship’s hat,—
O, certainly a clerk! A velvet cloak,
Jerkin of silk, and doublet of the same,—
For all the world a clerk! See, Julia, see,
How Master Walter bows, and yields him place,
That he may first go in—a very clerk!
I’ll learn of thee, love, when I’d know a clerk!
Julia. I wonder who he is!
Helen. Wouldst like to know?
Wouldst for a fancy ride to town with him?
I prophesy he comes to take thee thither!