Clif. Lov’st thou me, Julia?
Jul. Dost thou ask me, Clifford?
Clif. These nuptials may be shunned—
Jul. With honor?
Clif. Yes.
Jul. Then take me! Hold!—hear me, and take me, then! Let not thy passion be my counsellor; Deal with me, Clifford, as my brother. Be The jealous guardian of my spotless name. Scan thou my cause as ’twere thy sister’s. Let Thy scrutiny o’erlook no point of it, And turn it o’er not once, but many a time, That flaw, speck, yea, the shade of one,—a soil So slight not one out of a thousand eyes Could find it out,—may not escape thee; then Say if these nuptials can be shunned with honor!
Clif. They can.
Jul. Then take me, Clifford—
Festus. Stop one moment. (Looks at watch.) Time’s up.