Nor turn it over once, but many a time :-
That flaw, speck,-yea-the shade of one,-a soil
So slight, not one out of a thousand eyes
Could find it out, may not escape thee; then

Say if these nuptials can be shunn'd with honour!
Clif. They can.

Julia. Then take me, Clifford !

[They embrace.

SCENE FROM "THE HUNCHBACK."

BY JAMES SHEridan KnowlES.

HELEN.

MODUS.

Helen. I'm weary wandering from room to room; A castle after all is but a houseThe dullest one when lacking company. Were I at home, I could be company Unto myself. I see not Master Walter. He's ever with his ward. I see not her. By Master Walter will she bide, alone. My father stops in town. I can't see him. My cousin makes his books his company. I'll go to bed and sleep. No-I'll stay up And plague my cousin into making love! For, that he loves me, shrewdly I suspect. How dull he is, that hath not sense to see What lies before him, and he'd like to find! I'll change my treatment of him. Cross him, whcre Before I used to humour him. He comes,

Poring upon a book. What's that you read?

Enter MODUS.

Mod. Latin, sweet cousin

Helen. 'T is a naughty tongue,

I fear, and teaches men to lie.

Mod. To lie!

Helen. You study it. You call your cousin sweet, And treat her as you would a crab.

As sour

'T would seem you think her, so you covet her!
Why how the monster stares, and looks about!
You construe Latin, and can't construe that!
Mod. I never studied women.

Helen. No; nor men.

Else would you better know their ways; nor rcad
In presence of a lady. [Strikes the book from his hand.
Mod. Right you say,

And well you served me, cousin, so to strike
The volume from my hand. I own my fault;
So please you may I pick it up again?

I'll put it in my pocket!

Helen. Pick it up.

He fears me as I were his grandmother!
What is the book?

Mod. 'T is Ovid's Art of Love.

Helen. That Ovid was a fool!

Mod. In what?

Helen. In that!

To call that thing an art, which art is none.
Mod. And is not love an art?

Helen. Are you a fool

As well as Ovid? Love an art! No art
But taketh time and pains to learn. Love comes
With neither! Is't to hoard such grain as that

You went to college? Better stay at home,
And study homely English!

Mod. Nay, you know not

The argument.

Helen. I don't? I know it better

Than ever Ovid did! The face,-the form,-
The heart, the mind we fancy, cousin! that's
The argument! Why, cousin, you know nothing!
Suppose a lady were in love with thee,

Couldst thou by Ovid, cousin, find it out?
Couldst find it out, wert thou in love, thyself?
Could Ovid, cousin, teach thee to make love?
I could, that never read him! You begin
With melancholy; then to sadness; then
To sickness; then to dying-but not die!
She would not let thee, were she of my
mind!
She'd take compassion on thee. Then for hope;
From hope to confidence; from confidence
To boldness;-then you'd speak; at first entreat;
Then urge; then flout; then argue; then enforce;
Make prisoner of her hand; besiege her waist;
Threaten her lips with storming; keep thy word
And carry her! My sampler 'gainst thy Ovid!
Why, cousin, are you frighten'd, that you stand
As you were stricken dumb? The case is clear,
You are no soldier! You'll ne'er win a battle,
You care too much for blows!

Mod. You wrong me there.

At school I was the champion of my form;
And since I went to college-

Helen. That for college!

Mod. Nay, hear me !

Helen. Well? What, since you went to college? You know what men are set down for, who boast Of their own bravery! Go on, brave cousin : What, since you went to college? Was there not One Quentin Halworth there? You know there was, And that he was your master?

Mod. He my master?

Thrice was he worsted by me!

Helen. Still was he

Your master.

Mod. He allow'd I had the best! Allow'd it, mark me! nor to me alone, But twenty I could name.

Helen. And master'd you

At last! Confess it, cousin, 't is the truth!
A proctor's daughter you did both affect-
Look at me and deny it !—Of the twain
She more affected you ;-I've caught you now,
Bold cousin! Mark you! opportunity
On opportunity she gave you, sir,-

Deny it if you can!-but though to others,
When you discoursed of her, you were a flame;

To her you were a wick that would not light,
Though held in the very fire! And so he won her-
Won her, because he woo'd her like a man ;

For all your cuffings, cuffing you again

With most usurious interest!

Now, sir,

Protest that you are valiant!

Mod. Cousin Helen!

Helen. Well, sir?

Mod. The tale is all a forgery!

Helen. A forgery!

Mod. From first to last; ne'er spoke I

To a proctor's daughter, while I was at college.

Helen. Well,'twas a scrivener's, then-or somebody's. But what concerns it whose? Enough, you loved her! And, shame upon you, let another take her! Mod. Cousin, I tell you, if you'll only hear me, I loved no woman while I was at college— Save one, and her I fancied ere I went there.

Helen. Indeed! Now I'll retreat, if he's advancing. Comes he not on! O what a stock's the man! Well, cousin?

Mod. Well! What more wouldst have me say? I think I've said enough.

Helen. And so think I.

I did but jest with you. You are not angry?
Shake hands! Why, cousin, do you squeeze me so?
Mod. [Letting her go.] I swear I squeezed you not.
Helen. You did not?

Mod. No.

May I die if I did!

Helen. Why then you did not, cousin.

So let's shake hands again-[He takes her hand as before.]-O go! and now

Read Ovid! Cousin, will you tell me one thing:
Wore lovers ruffs in master Ovid's time?

Behoved him teach them, then, to put them on ;-
And that you have to learn.
Why, cousin, how you blush!
I cannot give 't a set. You're

Hold up your head! Plague on the ruff! blushing still!

Why do you blush, dear cousin? So!-'t will beat me!

I'll give it up.

Mod. Nay, prithee don't-try on!