Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ:
'Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia.
'Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia.
Shakespeare
You would be fing'ring them, to anger me.
LUCETTA. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleas'd
To be so ang'red with another letter. Exit
JULIA. Nay, would I were so ang'red with the same!
O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!
Injurious wasps, to feed on such sweet honey
And kill the bees that yield it with your stings!
I'll kiss each several paper for amends.
Look, here is writ 'kind Julia. ' Unkind Julia,
As in revenge of thy ingratitude,
I throw thy name against the bruising stones,
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.
And here is writ 'love-wounded Proteus. '
Poor wounded name! my bosom,,as a bed,
Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd;
And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
But twice or thrice was 'Proteus' written down.
Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away
Till I have found each letter in the letter-
Except mine own name; that some whirlwind bear
Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock,
And throw it thence into the raging sea.
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ:
'Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia. ' That I'll tear away;
And yet I will not, sith so prettily
He couples it to his complaining names.
Thus will I fold them one upon another;
Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.
Re-enter LUCETTA
LUCETTA. Madam,
Dinner is ready, and your father stays.
JULIA. Well, let us go.
LUCETTA. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here?
JULIA. If you respect them, best to take them up.
LUCETTA. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down;
Yet here they shall not lie for catching cold.
JULIA. I see you have a month's mind to them.
LUCETTA.