The Hunchback Part 15

Suppose a lady were in love with thee: Couldst thou by Ovid, cousin, find it out?

Couldst find it out, wast 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 compa.s.sion 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 frightened, 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 allowed I had the best!

Allowed it, mark me! nor to me alone, But twenty I could name.

_Helen_. And mastered you At last! Confess it, cousin, 'tis 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 wooed 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_. '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'll 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. I'll 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. Hold up your head!

Why, cousin, how you blus.h.!.+ Plague on the ruff!

I cannot give't a set. You're blus.h.i.+ng still!

Why do you blush, dear cousin? So!--'twill beat me!

I'll give it up.

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

_Helen_. And if I do, I fear you'll think me bold.

_Mod_. For what?

_Helen_. To trust my face so near to thine.

_Mod_. I know not what you mean.

_Helen_. I'm glad you don't!

Cousin, I own right well behaved you are, Most marvellously well behaved! They've bred You well at college. With another man My lips would be in danger! Hang the ruff!

_Mod_. Nay, give it up, nor plague thyself, dear cousin.

_Helen_. Dear fool! [Throws the ruff on the ground.]

I swear the ruff is good for just As little as its master! There!--'Tis spoiled-- You'll have to get another! Hie for it, And wear it in the fas.h.i.+on of a wisp, Ere I adjust it for thee! Farewell, cousin!

You'd need to study Ovid's Art of Love.

[HELEN goes out.]

_Mod_. [Solus.] Went she in anger! I will follow her,-- No, I will not! Heigho! I love my cousin!

O would that she loved me! Why did she taunt me With backwardness in love? What could she mean?

Sees she I love her, and so laughs at me, Because I lack the front to woo her? Nay, I'll woo her then! Her lips shall be in danger, When next she trusts them near me! Looked she at me To-day as never did she look before!

A bold heart, Master Modus! 'Tis a saying A faint one never won fair lady yet!

I'll woo my cousin, come what will on't. Yes:

[Begins reading again, throws down the book.]