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At Milan, let me hear from thee by letters,
Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan !
Pro. But now he parted hence, to embark for
Milan. Speed. Twenty to one then, he is shipp'd already; And I have play'd the sheep, in losing him.
Pro. Indeed a sheep doth very often stray, An if the shepherd be awhile away.
Speed. You conclude that my master is a shepherd then, and I a sheep ?
Pro. I do.
I wake or sleep.
Speed. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks not me: therefore, I am no sheep.
Pro. The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd, the shepherd for food follows not the sheep; thou
for wages followest thy master, thy master for wages follows not thee: therefore, thou art a sheep.
Speed. Such another proof will make me cry baa.
Pro. But dost thou hear ? gav'st thou my letter to Julia ?
Speed. Ay, sir : I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, a laced mutton*; and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a lost mutton, nothing for my labour.
Pro. Here's too small a pasture for such a store of muttons.
Speed. If the ground be overcharged, you were best stick her.
Pro. Nay, in that you are astray ; 'twere best pound you.
Speed. Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your letter.
Pro. You mistake; I mean the pound, a pin-fold. Speed. From a pound to a pin? fold it over and
over, 'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your
Speed. You mistook, sir ; I say, she did nod : and you ask me, if she did nod; and I say, I.
Pro. And that set together, is-noddy.
Speed. Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for your pains.
Pro. No, no, you shall have it for bearing the letter.
Speed. Well, I perceive, I must be fain to bear with you.
Pro. Why, sir, how do you bear with me?
Speed. Marry, sir, the letter very orderly; having nothing but the word noddy for my pains. Pro. Beshrews me, but you have a quick wit. * A term for a courtezan. + A game at cards.
* Iil betide.
Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse.
Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief: what said she ?
Speed. Open your purse, that the money, and the matter, may be both at once delivered.
Pro. Well, sir, here is for your pains : what said she?
Speed. Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her.
Pro. Why? could'st thou perceive so much from her ?
Speed. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no, not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter : and being so hard to me that brought your mind, I fear, she'll prove as hard to you in telling her mind. Give her no token but stones; for she's as hard as steel.
Pro. What, said she nothing ?
Speed. No, not so much as-take this for thy pains. To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testern’dt me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself: and so, sir, I'll commend you to my master Pro. Go, go, be gone, -to save your ship from
Enter Julia and Lucetta.
* Given me a six-pence.
Luc. Ay, madam ; so you stumble not unheed
fully. Jul. Of all the fair resort of gentlemen, That every day with parle* encounter me, In thy opinion, which is worthiest love? Luc. Please you, repeat their names, I'll show
my mind, According to my shallow simple skill.
Jul. What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour?
Luc. As of a knight well-spoken, neat and fine ? But, were I you, he never should be mine.
Jul. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio ? Luc. Well of his wealth ; but of himself, so, so. Jul. What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus ? Luc. Lord, lord ! to see what folly reigns in us ! Jul. How now! what means this passion at his
Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest?
Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason ; I think him so, because I think him so. Jul. And woulds't thou have me cast my love on
him? Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.
Jul. Why, he of all the rest hath never mov'd me. · Luc. Yet he of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.
Jul. His little speaking shows his love but small.
Peruse this paper, madam.
* Talk. : + Pass sentence.
That the contents will show. Jul. Say, say; who gave it thee? Luc. Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think, from
Proteus : He would have given it you, but I, being in the way, Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault, I
pray. Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker* ! Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines? To whisper and conspire against my youth? Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth, And you an officer fit for the place. There, take the paper, see it be return’d; Or else return no more into my sight. Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than
hate. Jul. Will you be gone? Luc.
That you may ruminate.
(Exit. Jul. And yet, I would I had o'erlook'd the letter. It were a shame to call her back again, And pray her to a fault for which I chid her. What fool is she, that knows I am a maid, And would not force the letter to my view ? Since maids, in modesty, say No, to that Which they would have the profferer construe, Ay. Fie, fie ! how wayward is this foolish love, That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse, And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod ! How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence, When willingly I would have had her here ! How angrily I taught my brow to frown, When inward joy enforc'd my heart to smile ! My penance is, to call Lucetta back, And ask remission for my folly past :What ho! Lucetta!
Re-enter Lucetta. Luc.
What would your ladyship? * A matchmaker,