BOSOLA. Your bright eyes
Carry a quiver of darts in them sharper
Than sun-beams.
JULIA. You will mar me with commendation,
Put yourself to the charge of courting me,
Whereas now I woo you.
BOSOLA. [Aside.] I have it, I will work upon this creature.--
Let us grow most amorously familiar:
If the great cardinal now should see me thus,
Would he not count me a villain?
JULIA. No; he might count me a wanton,
Not lay a scruple of offence on you;
For if I see and steal a diamond,
The fault is not i' th' stone, but in me the thief
That purloins it. I am sudden with you.
We that are great women of pleasure use to cut off
These uncertain wishes and unquiet longings,
And in an instant join the sweet delight
And the pretty excuse together. Had you been i' th' street,
Under my chamber-window, even there
I should have courted you.
BOSOLA. O, you are an excellent lady!
JULIA. Bid me do somewhat for you presently
To express I love you.
BOSOLA. I will; and if you love me,
Fail not to effect it.
The cardinal is grown wondrous melancholy;
Demand the cause, let him not put you off
With feign'd excuse; discover the main ground on 't.
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