Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off; For, being ignorant to whom it goes, I writ at random, very doubtfully.
Yes, yes; the lines are very quaintly writ; But, since unwillingly, take them again: Nay, take them.
Ay, ay, you writ them, sir, at my request; But I will none of them; they are for you.
I would have had them writ more movingly.
And when it’s writ, for my sake read it over; And if it please you, so; if not, why, so.
That’s the letter I writ to her friend.
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.
As you enjoin’d me, I have writ your letter Unto the secret nameless friend of yours; Which I was much unwilling to proceed in, But for my duty to your ladyship.
’For often have you writ to her; and she, in modesty, Or else for want of idle time, could not again reply; Or fearing else some messenger that might her mind discover, Herself hath taught her love himself to write unto her lover.’
Thy letters may be here, though thou art hence, Which, being writ to me, shall be deliver’d Even in the milk-white bosom of thy love.
Of her tongue she cannot, for that’s writ down she is slow of; of her purse she shall not, for that I’ll keep shut.
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.