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With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights :
Val. Love is your master, for he masters you:
Pro. Yet writers say, As in the sweetest bud
Val. And writers say, As the most forward bud
Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.
Val. Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave.
and all for love,
Speed. Twenty to one, then, he is shipp'd already;
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. Speed. Why, then, my horns are his horns whether 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.
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 pinfold.
Speed. From a pound to a pin? 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. You mistook, sir; I say she did nod: and you ask me if she did nod; and I say, 1.
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. 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 delivered.
Pro. Well, sir, here is for your pains: what said she?
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; begone, 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: 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, Would'st 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 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;
Jul. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio?
Luc. Lord, lord ! to see what folly reigns in us !
Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest?
-of many good I think him best. Jul. Your reason?
Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason;
Jul. And would'st thou have me cast my love on him?
[Gives a letter.
Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker!
Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.
That you may ruminate. [Exit.
And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod !
What would your ladyship?
I would it were;
took up So gingerly?
Why did'st thou stoop then?
Nothing concerning me. Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns.
Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns,
Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme.
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.
Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out:
Jul. You do not?
Luc. Nay, now you are too flat,
Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base.