"Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your

lover.

Pro. But what said she did she nod?

Speed. I.

Pro. Nod, I? why, that's noddy.

[Speed nods.

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 to gether, 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. Beshrew+ me, but you have a quick wit. 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 deliver'd.

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'd 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 wreck;

Which cannot perish, having thee aboard,
Being destined to a drier death on shore:
I must go send some better messenger;

A game at cards.

+ Ill betide.

Given me a sixpence.

I fear, my Julia would not deign my lines,
Receiving them from such a worthless post.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II-The same.-Garden of JULIA's House. Enter JULIA and LUCETTA.

Jul. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love? Luc. Ay, madam; so you stumble not unheedfully.

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 shew 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 name?

Luc. Pardon, dear madam; 'tis a passing shame, That I, unworthy body as I am,

Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.

Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest?
Luc. Then thus,-of many good I think him best.
Jul. Your reason?

Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason;
I think him so, because I think him so.

Jul. And wouldst 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 moved me.
Luc. Yet he of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.
Jul. His little speaking shews his love but small.
Luc. Fire, that is closest kept, burns most of all.
Jul. They do not love, that do not show their love.
Luc. O, they love least, that let men know their
love.

Jul. I would, I knew his mind.
Luc. Peruse this paper, madam.
Jul. To Julia-Say, from whom?

• Talk.

VOL. I.

+ Pass sentence.

K

Luc. That the contents will shew.
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 angerly I taught my brow to frown,

When inward joy enforced 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?

Jul. Is it near dinner-time?

Luc. I would it were;

That you might kill your stomach on your meat,

And not upon your maid.

Jul. What is't you took up

So gingerly?

Luc. Nothing.

Jul. Why didst thou stoop then?

Luc. To take a paper up that I let fall.

A match-maker.

+Passion or obstinacy.

Jul. And is that paper nothing?

Luc. Nothing concerning me.

Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns. Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns, Unless it have a false interpreter.

Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme.

Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune:
Give me a note: your ladyship can set.

Jul. As little by such toys as may be possible:
Best sing it to the tune of Light o' love.
Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune.

Jul. Heavy? belike it hath some burden then.
Lac. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it.
Jul. And why not you?

Luc. I cannot reach so high.

Jul. Let's see your song :-How now, minion? Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out: And yet, methinks, I do not like this tare.

Jul. You do not?

Luc. No, madam; it is too sharp.
Jul. You, minion, are too saucy.
Luc. Nay, now you are too flat,

And mar the concord with too harsh a descant:
There wanteth but a meant to fill your song.

Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base.
Luc. Indeed, I bid the base t for Proteus.
Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me.
Here is a coil with protestation!

[Tears the Letter.

Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie:
You would be fingering them, to anger me.

Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleased

To be so anger'd with another letter.

[Exit.
Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same!
O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!
Injurious wasps ! to feed on such sweet honey,
And kill the bees, that yield it, with your stings!
I'll kiss each several paper for amends.

And here is writ-kind Julia-ankind Julia !
As in revenge of thy ingratitude,

I throw thy name against the bruising stones,
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.
Look, here is writ-love-wounded Proteus
Poor wounded name! my bosom, as a bed,

A term in music.

A challenge.

The tenor in music.
Bustle, stir.

Shall lodge thee, till thy wound be thoroughly

heal'd;

And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.

But twice, or thrice, was Proteus written down?
Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away,

Till I have found each letter in the letter,

Except mine own name; that some whirlwind bear
Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock,

And throw it thence into the raging sea!
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.
Re-enter LUCETTA.

Luc. Madam, dinner's ready, and your father
Jul. Well, let us go.
[stays.
Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales

here?

Jul. If you respect them, best to take them up. Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down: Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold. Jul. I see, you have a month's mind to them. Luc. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you

see;

I see things too, although you judge I wink.

Jul. Come, come, will't please you go? [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The same.-A Room in ANTONIO's House.

Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO.

Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad + talk was that,
Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister?
Pant. Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son.
Ant. Why, what of him?

Pant. He wonder'd, that your lordship
Would suffer him to spend his youth at home;
While other men, of slender reputation,
Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:
Some, to the wars, to try their fortune there;
Some, to discover islands far away;
Some, to the studious universities.
For any, or for all these exercises,

Since.

+ Serious. +

Little consequence.