_Bos._ [_Aside._] I have it, I will work upon this creature.-- Let us grow most amorously familiar: If the great cardinal now should see me thus, Would he not count me a villain? _Julia._ No; he might count me a wanton, Not lay a scruple of offence on you; For if I see and steal a diamond, The fault is not i' the stone, but in me the thief That purloins it. I am sudden with you: We that are great women of pleasure use to cut off These uncertain wishes and unquiet longings, And in an instant join the sweet delight And the pretty excuse together. Had you been i' the street, Under my chamber-window, even there I should have courted you. _Bos._ O, you are an excellent lady! _Julia._ Bid me do somewhat for you presently To express I love you. _Bos._ I will; and if you love me, Fail not to effect it. The cardinal is grown wondrous melancholy; Demand the cause, let him not put you off With feigned excuse; discover the main ground on't. _Julia._ Why would you know this? _Bos._ I have depended on him, And I hear that he is fall'n in some disgrace With the emperor: if he be, like the mice That forsake falling houses, I would shift To other dependance. _Julia._ You shall not need Follow the wars: I'll be your maintenance. _Bos._ And I your loyal servant: but I cannot Leave my calling. _Julia._ Not leave an ungrateful General for the love of a sweet lady! You are like some cannot sleep in feather-beds, But must have blocks for their pillows. _Bos._ Will you do this? _Julia._ Cunningly. _Bos._ To-morrow I'll expect the intelligence. _Julia._ To-morrow! get you into my cabinet; You shall have it with you. Do not delay me, No more than I do you: I am like one That is condemned; I have my pardon promised, But I would see it sealed. Go, get you in: You shall see me wind my tongue about his heart Like a skein of silk. [_Exit_ BOSOLA. _Re-enter_ Cardinal. _Card._ Where are you? _Enter_ Servants. _Servants._ Here. _Card._ Let none, upon your lives, have conference With the Prince Ferdinand, unless I know it.-- [_Aside._] In this distraction he may reveal The murder. [_Exeunt_ Servants. Yond's my lingering consumption: I am weary of her, and by any means Would be quit of. _Julia._ How now, my lord! what ails you? _Card._ Nothing. _Julia._ O, you are much altered: Come, I must be your secretary, and remove This lead from off your bosom: what's the matter? _Card._ I may not tell you. _Julia._ Are you so far in love with sorrow You cannot part with part of it? or think you I cannot love your grace when you are sad As well as merry? or do you suspect I, that have been a secret to your heart These many winters, cannot be the same Unto your tongue? _Card._ Satisfy thy longing,-- The only way to make thee keep my counsel Is, not to tell thee.