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That, like a testy babe, will scratch the purse,
Re-enter Lucetta. Luc.
What would your ladyslip? 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.
up So gingerly? Luc.
Why did'st thou stoop then?
Nothing concerning me.
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:
Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune.
I cannot reach so high. Jul. Let's see your song :-How now, minion?
• Passion or obstinacy.
Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out: And yet, methinks, I do not like this tune.
Jul. You do not?
Luc. Nay, now you are too flat,
Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base.
Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me. Here is a coil | with protestation !
[Tears the letter. Go, get you gone; and let the You would be fingering them, to anger me. : Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be best
pleas'd To be so anger'd with another letter. [Erit.
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;- unkind Julia ! As iv 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, Shall lodge thee, till thy wound be throughly healid; 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 !
. A term in music.
+ The tenor in music,
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,
Luc. Madam, dinner's ready, and your father
stays. Jul. Well, let us go. Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales
Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down :
Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sadt talk was that,
Pan. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son.
He wonder'd, that your lordship
| Little consequence.
Some, to the wars, to try their fortune there;
Pant. I think, your lordship is not ignorant,
Ant. I know it well.
him thither :
Ant. I like thy counsel ; well hast thou advis'd :
Ant. Good company; with them shall Proteus go: And, in good time,-now will we break with him.
Pro. Sweet love ! sweet lines ! sweet life!
Ant. How now? what letter are you reading there?
Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news.
Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish ?
Pro. As one relying on your lordship's will, And not depending on his friendly wish.
Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish : Muset not that I thus suddenly proceed; For what I will, I will, and there an eud. I am resolv'd, that thou shalt spend some time With Valentinus in the emperor's court; What maintenance he from his friends receives, Like exhibitions thou shalt have from me. To-morrow be in readiness to go : Excuse it pot, for I am peremptory.
Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided; Please you, deliberate a day or two. Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent after
• Break the matter to him,