Wal. True!
Julia. Yet, must I weep
To be so monitored, and by a man!
A man that was my slave! whom I have seen
Kneel at my feet from morn till noon, content
With leave to only gaze upon my face,
And tell me what he read there,—till the page
I knew by heart, I ’gan to doubt I knew,
Emblazoned by the comment of his tongue!
And he to lesson me! Let him come here
On Monday week! He ne’er leads me to church!
I would not profit by his rank, or wealth,
Though kings might call him cousin, for their sake!
I’ll show him I have pride!
Wal. You’re very right!
Julia. He would have had to-day our wedding-day!
I fixed a month from this. He prayed and prayed;
I dropped a week. He prayed and prayed the more!
I dropped a second one. Still more he prayed!
And I took off another week,—and now
I have his leave to wed, or not to wed!
He’ll see that I have pride!
Wal. And so he ought.
Julia. O! for some way to bring him to my foot!
But he should lie there! Why, ’twill go abroad
That he has cast me off. That there should live
The man could say so! Or that I should live
To be the leavings of a man!
Wal. Thy case
I own a hard one!
Julia. Hard? ’Twill drive me mad!
His wealth and title! I refused a lord—
I did!—that privily implored my hand,
And never cared to tell him on’t! So much
I hate him now, that lord should not in vain
Implore my hand again!
Wal. You’d give it him?
Julia. I would.