Part 13 (1/2)

_Alice_. Yes; wondrous fair!

Harm never come to her! So sweet a thing 'Twere pity were abused!

_Wal_. You think her fair?

_Alice_. Ay, marry! Half so fair were more than match For fairest she e'er saw mine eyes before!

And what a form! A foot and instep there!

Vouchers of symmetry! A little foot And rising instep, from an ankle arching, A palm, and that a little one, might span.

_Wal_. Who taught thee thus?

_Alice_. Why who, but her, taught thee?

Thy mother!--Heaven rest her!--Thy good mother!

She could read men and women by their hands And feet!--And here's a hand!--A fairy palm!

Fingers that taper to the pinky tips, With nails of rose, like sh.e.l.ls of such a hue, Berimmed with pearl, you pick up on the sh.o.r.e!

Save these the gloss and tint do wear without.

_Wal_. Why, how thou talk'st!

_Alice_. Did I not tell thee thus Thy mother used to talk? Such hand and foot, She would say, in man or woman vouched for nature High tempered!--Still for sentiment refined; Affection tender; apprehension quick-- Degrees beyond the generality!

There is a marriage finger! Curse the hand Would balk it of a ring!

_Wal_. She's quite restored, Leave us!--Why cast'st thou that uneasy look?

Why linger'st thou? I'm not alone with her.

My honour's with her too. I would not wrong her.

_Alice_. And if thou wouldst, thou'rt not thy mother's son.

[Goes out.]

_Wal_. You are better?

_Lydia_. Much!--much!

_Wal_. Know you him who durst Attempt this violence in open day?

It seemed as he would force thee to his coach, I saw attending.

_Lydia_. Take this letter, sir, And send the answer--I must needs be gone.

_Wal_. [Throwing the letter away.] I read no letter!

Tell me, what of him I saw offend thee?

_Lydia_. He hath often met me, And by design I think, upon the street, And tried to win mine ear, which ne'er he got Save only by enforcement. Presents--gifts-- Of jewels and of gold to wild amount, To win an audience, hath he proffered me; Until, methought, my silence--for my lips Disdained reply were question was a wrong-- Had wearied him. Oh, sir, whate'er of life Remains to me I had foregone, ere proved The horror of this hour!--and you it is That have protected me?

_Wal_. Oh, speak not on't!

_Lydia_. You that have saved me from mine enemy--

_Wal_. I pray you to forget it.

_Lydia_. From a foe More dire than he that putteth life in peril--

_Wal_. Sweet Lydia, I beseech you spare me.