Nurse. Alas! he is distracted! what a sin
Am I partaker of, by telling him
So curs'd an untruth? But 'twas my mistress' will.
Who is recovered; though her griefs never
Can be recover'd. She hath vow'd with tears
Her own perpetual banishment; therefore to him
Death were not more displeasing than if I
Had told her lasting absence.
Car. I find my brain's too shallow far for study.
What need I care for being a 'rithmetician?
Let citizens' sons stand, an' they will, for cyphers:
Why should I teach them, and go beat my brains
To instruct unapt and unconceiving dolts;
And, when all's done, my art, that should be fam'd,
Will by gross imitation be but sham'd?
Your judgment, madam?
Nurse. Good sir, walk in; we'll send for learned men,
That can allay your frenzy.
Car. But can Maria so forget herself,
As to debar us thus of her attendance?
Nurse. She's within, sir, pray you, will you walk to her?
Car. O, is she so! Come, then, let's softly steal
Into her chamber; if she be asleep,
I'll laugh, shalt see, enough, and thou shalt weep.
Softly, good long-coat, softly.
[Exeunt.
Enter Maria in page's apparel.
Mar. Cease now thy steps, Maria, and look back
Upon that place where distress'd Carracus
Hath his sad being; from whose virtuous bosom
Shame hath constrained me fly, ne'er to return.
I will go seek some unfrequented path
Either in desert woods or wilderness,
There to bewail my innocent mishaps,
Which heaven hath justly poured down on me,
In punishing my disobediency.
Enter Young Lord Wealthy.