JULIA.
And yet I would I had o’erlooked the letter.
It were a shame to call her back again
And pray her to a fault for which I chid her.
What fool is she, that knows I am a maid
And would not force the letter to my view,
Since maids in modesty say “No” to that
Which they would have the profferer construe “Ay”.
Fie, fie, how wayward is this foolish love
That like a testy babe will scratch the nurse
And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod!
How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,
When willingly I would have had her here!
How angerly I taught my brow to frown,
When inward joy enforced my heart to smile!
My penance is to call Lucetta back
And ask remission for my folly past.
What ho! Lucetta!
Enter Lucetta.
LUCETTA.
What would your ladyship?
JULIA.
Is ’t near dinner time?
LUCETTA.
I would it were,
That you might kill your stomach on your meat
And not upon your maid.
[Drops and picks up the letter.]
JULIA.
What is’t that you took up so gingerly?
LUCETTA.
Nothing.
JULIA.
Why didst thou stoop, then?
LUCETTA.
To take a paper up that I let fall.