[Aside.
Car. Praxiteles could ne'er portray him better,
Nor lodge his sconce more fitly. You may, madam,
Conceive how sensibly we feel your wounds,
And with what promptness we shall expedite
Your long-expected cure.
Pal.Madam Julippe,
You come next in rank; declare your griefs,
And if our judgments hold them meriting
Our just relief, we have compassionate hearts
And powerful hands to vindicate your wrongs
To th' utmost scruple.
Jul.If they weigh not heavy,
Let me incur your censure. Patriots—
For I appeal to your judicious bosoms,
Where serious justice has a residence
Mix'd with a pious pity—I shall unravel
The clue of my misfortunes in small threads,
Thin-spun as is the subtle gossamer.[127]
Deep wounds, like griefs, require contracted lines;
Few words, long sighs: accents that want express.
First give me leave one beamling to bestow
On my obscur'd, once glorious, family.
All. Madam, proceed; Fame made it eminent.
Jul. But now contemptive—by marrying one
Who bears the shape of man, and that is all:
A base, white-liver'd coward, whose regard
To his lost honour stamps him with that brand,
That hateful stigma, which humanity
Scorns as the basest complice.
Pal. Style it, madam.
Jul. Pusillanimity. That ranter breathes not,
Who with his peek'd mouchatoes[128] may not brave him,
Baffle, nay baste him out of his possessions.
His fortunes he esteems not, so his person
May be secur'd from beating.
All. Matchless coward!
Jul. Nor is this all. 'Has sought t' engage my bed,
My nuptial bed and honour—nay, those sheets
Where, I may safely vow, ne'er man lay in,
Beside my husband.