Speed. The fhepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the fhepherd; but I seek my mafter, and my master seeks not me; therefore I am no sheep. Pro. The sheep for fodder follows the fhepherd, the fhepherd for food follows not the sheep; thou for wages followeft thy master, thy master for wages follows not thee; therefore thou art a fheep. Speed. Such another proof will make me cry, Baá. Pro. But doft thou hear? gaveft thou my letter to Julia? Speed. Ay, fir; I, a loft-mutton, gave your letter to her, a lac'd-mutton; and fhe, a lac'd-mutton, gave me, a loft-mutton, nothing for my labour. Pro. Here's too fmall a pasture for such store of muttons. Speed. If the ground be over-charg'd, you were best stick her. Pro. Nay, in that you are a stray, 'twere beft pound you. Speed. Nay, fir, 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 lover. Pro. But what faid fhe? Speed. She nodded and faid, I. Pro. Nod-I? why, that's noddy. Speed. You miftook, fir; I faid, fhe did nod: And you afk me, if she did nod; and I faid, ay. Pro. And that, fet together, is noddy. Speed. Now you have taken the pains to fet 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, fir, how do you bear with me? Speed. Marry, fir, the letter very orderly; Having nothing but the word noddy for my pains. a Lac'd mutton is a phrase anciently used for a lady of pleasure. Speed. Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your flow purse. Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief; what faid fhe? Speed. Open your purse, that the money and the matter may be both deliver'd. Pro. Well, fir, here is for your pains; what said she? Speed. No, not fo much as, take this for thy pains: to my master. Pro. Go, go, be gone, to fave your fhip from wreck, [Exeunt. Jul. Changes to Julia's chamber. Enter Julia and Lucetta. UT fay, Lucetta, now we are alone, Wouldft thou then counsel me to fall in love? Luc. Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheedfully. Luc. Luc. Please you repeat their names, I'll show my mind, According to my fhallow fimple skill. Jul. What think'ft thou of the fair fir Eglamour? Jul. What think'ft thou of the rich Mercatio? Should cenfure pass on lovely gentlemen. Jul. Why not on Protheus as on all the reft?. Luc. I have no other but a woman's reafon; I think him fo, because I think him fo. ful. And would'st thou have me cast my love on him? Luc. Perufe this paper, madam. Jul. Say, fay; who gave it thee? Luc. Sir Valentine's page; and fent, I think, from Protheus. He would have giv'n it you, but I being by Did in your name receive it; pardon me. Jul. Now, by my modefty, a goodly broker! Dare you prefume to harbour wanton lines? To To whisper and confpire against my youth? There, take the paper; fee it be return'd, Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate. Luc. That you may ruminate. [afide.] [Exit. Ful. And yet I would I had o'er-look'd the letter. It were a fhame, to call her back again, And pray her to a fault, for which I chid her. What fool is fhe that knows I am a maid, And ask remiffion for my folly past. 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 that you Took up fo gingerly? Luc. Nothing. ful. Why didst thou stoop then? Luc. Luc. To take a paper up that I let fall. ful. And is that nothing? Luc. Nothing concerning me. Jul. Then let it lye for those that it concerns. Luc. Madam, it will not lye where it concerns, Unless it have a falfe interpreter. Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhime. Luc. That I might fing it, madam, to a tune; Give me a note; your ladyship can set. ful. As little by fuch toys as may be poffible; Beft fing it to the tune of, Light o love. Luc. It is too heavy for fo light a tune. Jul. Heavy? belike, it hath fome burthen then. Luc. I cannot reach fo high. Jul. Let's fee your fong:- why, how now, minion? [Gives her a box on the ear. Luc. Keep tune there ftill, so you will fing it out: And yet, methinks, I do not like the tune. Jul. You do not ? Luc. No, madam, it is too fharp. Jul. You are too fawcy. Luc. Nay, now you are too flat, And mar the concord with too harsh a defcant: Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base. Jul. This babble fhall not henceforth trouble me. Here is a coil with protestation! [Tears it. Go, get you gone; and let the papers lye : You would be fing'ring them to anger me. Luc. She makes it strange, but she would be best pleas'd To be fo anger'd with another letter. [Exit. Jul. Nay, would I were fo anger'd with the fame! O hateful hands, to tear fuch loving words! |