_Fath_. Rely upon it. How he'll stare when he finds himself a prisoner, and my young lady at liberty! _Helen_. Most excellent! You'll be sure to do it? _Fath_. Depend upon me! When Fathom undertakes a thing, he defies fire and water-- _Wal_. [Coming forward.] Fathom! _Fath_. Sir! _Wal_. Assemble straight the servants. _Fath_. Yes, sir! _Wal_. Mind, And have them in the hall when I come down. _Fath_. Yes, sir! _Wal_. And see you do not stir a step, But where I order you. _Fath_. Not an inch, sir! _Wal_. See that you don't--away! So, my fair mistress, [FATHOM goes out.] What's this you have been plotting? An escape For mistress Julia? _Helen_. I avow it. _Wal_. Do you? _Helen_. Yes; and moreover to your face I tell you, Most hardly do you use her! _Wal_. Verily! _Helen_. I wonder where's her spirit! Had she mine She would not take 't so easily. Do you mean To force this marriage on her? _Wal_. With your leave. _Helen_. You laugh. _Wal_. Without it, then. I don't laugh now. _Helen_. If I were she, I'd find a way to escape. _Wal_. What would you do? _Helen_. I'd leap out of the window! _Wal_. Your window should be barred. _Helen_. I'd cheat you still!-- I'd hang myself ere I'd be forced to marry! _Wal_. Well said! You shall be married, then, to-night. _Helen_. Married to-night! _Wal_. As sure as I have said it. _Helen_. Two words to that. Pray who's to be my bridegroom? _Wal_. A daughter's husband is her father's choice. _Helen_. My father's daughter ne'er shall wed such husband! _Wal_. Indeed! _Helen_. I'll pick a husband for myself. _Wal_. Indeed! _Helen_. Indeed, sir; and indeed again! _Wal_. Go dress you for the marriage ceremony. _Helen_. But, Master Walter, what is it you mean? [Enter MODUS.] _Wal_. Here comes your cousin;--he shall be your bridesman! The thought's a sudden one,--that will excuse Defect in your appointments. A plain dress,-- So 'tis of white,--will do. _Helen_. I'll dress in black. I'll quit the castle. _Wal_. That you shall not do. Its doors are guarded by my lord's domestics, Its avenues--its grounds. What you must do, Do with a good grace! In an hour, or less, Your father will be here. Make up your mind To take with thankfulness the man he gives you. Now, [Aside] if they find not out how beat their hearts, I have no skill, not I, in feeling pulses. [Goes out.] _Helen_. Why, cousin Modus! What! will you stand by And see me forced to marry? Cousin Modus! Have you not got a tongue? Have you not eyes? Do you not see I'm very--very ill, And not a chair in all the corridor? _Mod_. I'll find one in the study. _Helen_. Hang the study! _Mod_. My room's at hand. I'll fetch one thence. _Helen_. You shan't I'd faint ere you came back! _Mod_. What shall I do?