Celia. It shall be done; and yet, my lady, believe
I feel some pang of heart to see thee grieve,
And find thy maiden fancy touch'd so deep.
Julia. Oh, had'st thou whisper'd wiser
Counsel then.
Celia. His servant always linger'd at my side.
Julia. His servant?
Celia. Yes, sweet lady, and I swear,
That if the master be so bold, so true
So gallant and so handsome too,
The servant in his place reflects
His master well.
Julia. Much would it please me now to know
Of this same servant that thou namest
If brave Roselo Montes ever loved another.
Seek, good Celia, seek on, till thou find'st,
And tell me truly, for my poor heart's sake.
Celia. Your duty, lady, is but to forget.
Julia. Ah yes, my memory fail'd me for the time!
Tell him how innocent of deceit I was;
Tell him, oh tell him not to pass this dangerous way:
And yet, I care so much to know
If he doth love another? Go, Celia, go.
Celia. This, lady, is but wanting woman's wit.
Let him go love where fancy leads,
He ne'er can wed with thee.
Julia. Woman, how wondrous wearisome thou art,
For ever seeking thus to cross and fret.
What matter is't to thee, if I should care
To know he loved not one but twenty
Of Verona's fairest daughters?
Celia. To seek to know such secrets is most wrong.
