The Hunchback | Page 9

Fathom, who is come?
Fath. I know not.
Helen. What! Didst thou not hear his name?
Fath. I did.
Helen. What is't?
Fath. I noted not.
Helen. What hast thou ears for, then?
Fath. What good were it for me to mind his name? I do but what I must
do. To do that Is labour quite enough!
Wal. [Without.] What, Fathom!
Fath. Here.
Wal. [Entering.] Here, sirrah! Wherefore didst not come to me?

Fath. You did not bid me come.
Wal. I called thee.
Fath. Yes. And I said "Here;" and waited then to know Your worship's
will with me.
Wal. We go to town. Thy mistress, thou, and all the house.
Fath. Well, sir?
Wal. Mak'st thou not ready then to go to town? Hence, knave,
despatch!
[FATHOM goes out.]
Helen. Go we to town?
Wal. We do; 'Tis now her father's will she sees the town.
Helen. I'm glad on't. Goes she to her father?
Wal. No: At the desire of thine she for a term shares roof with thee.
Helen. I'm very glad on't.
Wal. What! You like her, then? I thought you would. 'Tis time She sees
the town.
Helen. It has been time for that These six years.
Wal. By thy wisdom's count. No doubt You've told her what a precious
place it is.
Helen. I have.
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.
Clif. In joining contrasts lieth love's delight. Complexion, stature,
nature, mateth it, Not with their kinds, but with their opposites. Hence
hands of snow in palms of russet lie; The form of Hercules affects the
sylph's; And breasts, that case the lion's fear-proof heart, Find their
meet lodge in arms where tremors dwell! Haply for this, on Afric's
swarthy neck, Hath Europe's priceless pearl been seen to hang, That
makes the orient poor! So with degrees, Rank passes by the
circlet-graced brow, Upon the forehead, bare, of notelessness To print
the nuptial kiss. As with degrees So is't with habits; therefore I, indeed
A gallant of the town, the town forsake, To win a country wife.
Julia. His prompt reply My backward challenge shames! Must I give
o'er? I'll