[Clifford kneels; presenting a letter.]
Does he kneel?
A lady am I to my heart’s content!
Could he unmake me that which claims his knee,
I’d kneel to him—I would! I would!—Your will?
Clif. This letter from my lord.
Julia. O fate! Who speaks?
Clif. The secretary of my lord.
Julia. I breathe!
I could have sworn ’twas he!
[Makes an effort to look at him, but is unable.]
So like the voice—
I dare not look, lest there the form should stand!
How came he by that voice? ’Tis Clifford’s voice,
If ever Clifford spoke! My fears come back—
Clifford the secretary of my lord!
Fortune hath freaks, but none so mad as that!
It cannot be!—It should not be!—A look,
And all were set at rest.
[Tries to look at him again, but cannot.]
So strong my fears,
Dread to confirm them takes away the power
To try and end them! Come the worst, I’ll look.