Part 8 (1/2)

_Julia_. That Monday week, I trust, will never come, That brags to make a sober wife of me!

_Helen_. How changed you are, my Julia!

_Julia_. Change makes change.

_Helen_. Why wedd'st thou, then?

_Julia_. Because I promised him!

_Helen_. Thou lovest him?

_Julia_. Do I?

_Helen_. He's a man to love!

A right well-favoured man!

_Julia_. Your point's well favoured.

Where did you purchase it? In Gracechurch Street?

_Helen_. Pshaw! never mind my point, but talk of him.

_Julia_. I'd rather talk with thee about the lace.

Where bought you it? In Gracechurch Street, Cheapside, Whitechapel, Little Britain? Can't you say Where 'twas you bought the lace?

_Helen_. In Cheapside, then.

And now, then, to Sir Thomas! He is just The height I like a man.

_Julia_. Thy feather's just The height I like a feather! Mine's too short!

What shall I give thee in exchange for it?

_Helen_. What shall I give thee for a minute's talk About Sir Thomas?

_Julia_. Why, thy feather.

_Helen_. Take it!

_Clif_. [Aside to MODUS.] What, likes she not to speak of me?

_Helen_. And now Let's talk about Sir Thomas--much I'm sure He loves you.

_Julia_. Much I'm sure, he has a right!

Those know I who would give their eyes to be Sir Thomas, for my sake!

_Helen_. Such too, know I.

But 'mong them none that can compare with him, Not one so graceful.

_Julia_. What a graceful set Your feather has!

_Helen_. Nay, give it back to me, Unless you pay me for't.

_Julia_. What was't to get?

_Helen_. A minute's talk with thee about Sir Thomas.