What would you with her, if that I be she?
Iul. If you be she, I doe intreat your patience
To heare me speake the message I am sent on
Sil. From whom?
Iul. From my Master, Sir Protheus, Madam
Sil. Oh: he sends you for a Picture?
Iul. I, Madam
Sil. Vrsula, bring my Picture there,
Goe, giue your Master this: tell him from me,
One Iulia, that his changing thoughts forget
Would better fit his Chamber, then this Shadow
Iul. Madam, please you peruse this Letter;
Pardon me (Madam) I haue vnaduis'd
Deliuer'd you a paper that I should not;
This is the Letter to your Ladiship
Sil. I pray thee let me looke on that againe
Iul. It may not be: good Madam pardon me
Sil. There, hold:
I will not looke vpon your Masters lines:
I know they are stuft with protestations,
And full of new-found oathes, which he will breake
As easily, as I doe teare his paper
Iul. Madam, he sends your Ladiship this Ring
Sil. The more shame for him, that he sends it me;
For I haue heard him say a thousand times,
His Iulia gaue it him, at his departure:
Though his false finger haue prophan'd the Ring,
Mine shall not doe his Iulia so much wrong
Iul. She thankes you
Sil. What sai'st thou?
Iul. I thanke you Madam, that you tender her:
Poore Gentlewoman, my Master wrongs her much
Sil. Do'st thou know her?
Iul. Almost as well as I doe know my selfe.
To thinke vpon her woes, I doe protest
That I haue wept a hundred seuerall times
Sil.
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