_Wal_. I even guessed as much. For that I told thee of her; brought thee here to see her; And prayed thee to sojourn a space with her; That its fair space, from thy too fair report, Might strike a novice less--so less deceive her. I did not put thee under check. _Helen_. 'Twas right,-- Else had I broken loose, and run the wilder! So knows she not her father yet: that's strange. I prithee how does mine? _Wal_. Well--very well. News for thee. _Helen_. What? _Wal_. Thy cousin is in town. _Helen_. My cousin Modus? _Wal_. Much do I suspect That cousin's nearer to thy heart than blood. _Helen_. Pshaw! Wed me to a musty library! Love him who nothing loves but Greek and Latin! But, Master Walter, you forget the main Surpassing point of all! Who's come with you? _Wal_. Ay, that's the question! _Helen_. Is he soldier or Civilian? lord or gentleman? He's rich, If that's his chariot! Where is his estate? What brings it in? Six thousand pounds a year? Twelve thousand, may be! Is he bachelor, Or husband? Bachelor I'm sure he is Comes he not hither wooing, Master Walter? Nay, prithee, answer me! _Wal_. Who says thy sex Are curious? That they're patient, I'll be sworn; And reasonable--very reasonable-- To look for twenty answers in a breath! Come, thou shalt be enlightened--but propound Thy questions one by one! Thou'rt far too apt A scholar! My ability to teach Will ne'er keep pace, I fear, with thine to learn. [They go out.] SCENE III.--An Apartment in the House. [Enter JULIA, followed by CLIFFORD.] _Julia_. No more! I pray you, sir, no more! _Clif_. I love you! _Julia_. You mock me, sir! _Clif_. Then is there no such thing On earth as reverence; honour filial, the fear Of kings, the awe of supreme heaven itself, Are only shows and sounds that stand for nothing. I love you! _Julia_. You have known me scarce a minute! _Clif_. Say but a moment, still I say I love you! Love's not a flower that grows on the dull earth; Springs by the calendar; must wait for the sun-- For rain;--matures by parts;--must take its time To stem, to leaf, to bud, to blow. It owns A richer soil, and boasts a quicker seed! You look for it, and see it not; and lo! E'en while you look, the peerless flower is up. Consummate in the birth! _Julia_. Is't fear I feel? Why else should beat my heart? It can't be fear! Something I needs must say. You're from the town; How comes it, sir, you seek a country wife? Methinks 'twill tax his wit to answer that.