s, Master Walter! Ne'er was child more bent
To do her father's will, you'll own, than mine:
Yet never one more froward.

_Wal_. All runs fair--
Fair may all end! To-day you'll learn the cause
That took me out of town. But soft a while,--
Here comes the bridegroom, with his friends, and here
The all-obedient bride.

[Enter on one hand JULIA, and on the other hand LORD ROCHDALE with LORD
TINSEL and friends--afterwards CLIFFORD.]

_Roch_. Is she not fair?

_Tin_. She'll do. Your servant, lady! Master Walter,
We're glad to see you. Sirs, you're welcome all.
What wait they for? Are we to wed or not?
We're ready--why don't they present the bride?
I hope they know she is to wed an earl.

_Roch_. Should I speak first?

_Tin_. Not for your coronet!
I, as your friend, may make the first advance.
We've come here to be married. Where's the bride?

_Wal_. There stands she, lord; if 'tis her will to wed,
His lordship's free to take her.

_Tin_. Not a step!
I, as your friend, may lead her to your lordship.
Fair lady, by your leave.

_Julia_. No! not to you.

_Tin_. I ask your hand to give it to his lordship.

_Julia_. Nor to his lordship--save he will accept
My hand without my heart! but I'll present
My knee to him, and, by his lofty rank,
Implore him now to do a lofty deed
Will lift its stately head above his rank,--
Assert him nobler yet in worth than name,--
And, in the place of an unwilling bride,
Unto a willing debt or make him lord,--
Whose thanks shall be his vassals, night and day
That still shall wait upon him!

_Tin_. What means this?

_Julia_. What is't behoves a wife to bring her lord?

_Wal_. A whole heart, and a true one.

_Julia_. I have none!
Not half a heart--the fraction of a heart!
Am I a woman it befits to wed?

_Wal_. Why, where's thy heart?

_Julia_. Gone--out of my keeping!
Lost, past recovery: right and title to it--
And all given up! and he that's owner on't,
So fit to wear it, were it fifty hearts,
I'd give it to him all!

_Wal_. Thou dost not mean
His lordship's secretary?

_Julia_. Yes. Away
Disguises! in that secretary know
The master of the heart, of which the poor,
Unvalued, empty casket, at your feet--
Its jewel gone--I now despairing throw!

[Kneels.]

Of his lord's bride he's lord! lord paramount!
To whom her virgin homage first she paid,--
'Gainst whom rebelled in frowardness alone,
Nor knew herself how loyal to him, till
Another