Jul. Permit it not, and Julia will thank you.
Gons. Who e'er could think, that one kind word from Julia
Should be preferred to Julia herself?
Could any man think it a greater good
To save a rival, than possess a mistress?
Yet this I do! these are thy riddles, love!—
What fortune gives me, I myself destroy;
And feed my virtue, but to starve my joy.
Honour sits on me like some heavy armour,
And with its stiff defence, encumbers me;
And yet, when I would put it off, it sticks
Like Hercules's shirt; heats me at once;
And poisons me!
Man. I find myself grow calm by thy example;
My panting heart heaves less and less, each pulse;
And all the boiling spirits scatter from it.
Since thou desirest he should not die, he shall not,
'Till I on nobler terms can take his life.
Rod. The next turn may be yours.—Remember, I owed this danger to your wilfulness: Once, you might easily have been mine, and would not. [Exit RODORICK.
Man. Lead out my sister, friend; her hurt's so
small,
'Twill scarce disturb the ceremony.
Ladies, once more your pardons.
[Leads out the Company. Exeunt.
Manent JULIA, GONSALVO, AMIDEO, and HIPPOLITO. GONSALVO offers his hand, JULIA pulls back hers.
Jul. This hand would rise in blisters, should'st
thou touch it!—
My Roderick's displeased with me, and thou,
Unlucky man, the cause. Dare not so much
As once to follow me. [Exit JULIA.
Gons. Not follow her! Alas, she need not bid me! Oh, how could I presume to take that hand, To which mine proved so fatal! Nay, if I might, should I not fear to touch it?— murderer's touch would make it bleed afresh!
Amid. I think, sir, I could kill her for your sake.