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But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee,
Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.
Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan !
Pro. Indeed a sheep doth very often stray,
herd then, and I a sheep?
I wake or sleep.
Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance.
Speed. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the
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 let. ter 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 piu ? fold it over and
over, 'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your
lover. Pro. But what said she? did she nod?
[Speed nods. Speed. I. Pro. Nod, I?.why, that's noddyt.
Speed. You mistook, sir; I say, she did nod: and ask
1. Pro. And that set together, is-noddy.
Speed. Now you have taken the pains to set it to. gether, take it for your pains.
# A term for a courtezan.
Pro. No, no, you shall have it for bearing the letter.
Speed. Well, I perceive, I must be fain to bear
rcumstance, it by another.
P, and not the
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
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 tokep but stones; for she's as hard as steel,
Pro. What, said she nothing?
+ Given me a six-pense,
Garden of Julia's house.
Enter Julia and Lucetta.
Jul. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, Would'st thou then counsel me to fall in love? Luc. Ay, madain ; 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 slow my
mind According to my shallow simple skill.
Jul. What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour? 1. 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 reigus iu 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 censuret thus on lovely gentlemen. 1. Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest? Luc. Then thus, of many good I think him
Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason;
Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away. Jul. Why, he of all the rest hath never mov'd mea Luc. Yet he of all the rest, I think, best loves ge.. Jul. His little speaking shows his love but small Luc. Fire, that is closest kept, burns most of allo 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? Luc.
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 pame receive it; pardon the fault, I
pray Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker! Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines ? To wbisper 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
bate, Jul. Will you be gone? Luc.
That you may ruminate.
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. Tie, fie! how wayward is thiş foolish love,
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