That art a votary to fond defire?

Once more adieu: my father at the road
Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd.

Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.
Val. Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave.
At Milan, let me hear from thee by letters,
Of thy fuccefs in love, and what news elfe
Betideth here in abfence of thy friend;
And I likewife will vifit thee with mine.

Pro. All happinefs bechance to thee in Milan!
Val. As much to you at home! and fo, farewell!
[Exit VALENTINE.
Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love:
He leaves his friends, to dignify them more;
I leave myself, my friends, and all for love.
Thou, Julia, thou haft metamorphos'd me;
Made me neglect my studies, lose my time,
War with good counsel, fet the world at nought;
Made wit with mufing weak, heart fick with thought.

Enter SPEED.

Speed. Sir Proteus, fave you: Saw you my master? Pro. But now he parted hence, to embark for Milan. Speed. Twenty to one then, he is shipp'd already; And I have play'd the sheep, in losing him. Pro. Indeed a fheep doth very often stray,

An if the thepherd 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 fleep.

Pro. A filly answer, and fitting well a sheep.

Speed. This proves me still a sheep.

Pro. True; and thy mafter a fhepherd.

Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance. Pro. It fhall go hard, but I'll prove it by another. Speed. The fhepherd feeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd; but I feek my mafter, and my master seeks not me therefore, I am no sheep.

Pro. The fheep for fodder follow the shepherd, the shepherd for food follows not the fheep; thou for wages followest thy master, thy master for wages follows not thee: therefore, thou art a fheep.

Speed. Such another proof will make me cry baa.

Pro. But doft thou hear? gav'ft thou my letter to Julia? Speed. Ay, fir: I, a loft 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 mut

tons.

Speed. If the ground be overcharg'd, you were best ftick her.

Pro. Nay, in that you are aftray; 'twere best pound you.

Speed. Nay, fir, lefs than a pound fhall ferve 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? did the nod.

Speed. I.

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

[SPEED nods.

Speed. You mistook, fir; I say, she did nod: and you

ask me, if she did nod; and I say, I.

Pro. And that fet together, is-noddy.

Speed.

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.

Pro. Befhrew 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 faid fhe?

Speed. Open your purse, that the money, and the matter, may be both at once deliver'd.

Pro. Well, fir, here is for your pains: What said she? Speed. Truly, fir, I think you'll hardly win her.

Pro. Why? Could'ft thou perceive so much from her? Speed. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no, not fo much as a ducat for delivering your letter: And being fo hard to me that brought your mind, I fear, fhe'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, faid she nothing?

Speed. No, not fo 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 yourfelf and fo, fir, I'll commend you to my master.

:

Pro. Go, go, be gone, to fave your ship from wreck;

Which cannot perish, having thee aboard,
Being deftin'd to a drier death on shore :→
I must go fend fome better messenger;
I fear, my Julia would not deign my lines,
Receiving them from fuch a worthless post.

B 3

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE II.

The fame. Garden of Julia's boufe.

Enter JULIA and LUCETTA.

Jul. But fay, Lucetta, now we are alone,
Would't thou then counsel me to fall in love?
Luc. Ay, madam; fo you stumble not unheedfully.
Jul. Of all the fair refort of gentlemen,

That every day with parle encounter me,
In thy opinion, which is worthiest love?

Luc. Please you, repeat their names, I'll fhew my
According to my thallow fimple skill.

Jul. What think'st thou of the fair fir Eglamour? Luc. As of a knight well-fpoken, neat and fine; But, were I you, he never should be mine.

mind

Jul. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio? Luc. Well, of his wealth; but of himself, fo, fo. 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 paffing fhame, That I, unworthy body as I am,

Should cenfure thus on lovely gentlemen.

Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the reft?

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 fo, because I think him fo.

ful. And would'st thou have me cast my love on him? Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away. Jul. Why, he of all the reft hath never mov'd me. Luc. Yet he of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.

Jul.

Jul. His little fpeaking fhows his love but finall.
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 leaft, that let men know their love.
Jul. I would, I knew his mind.

Luc.

Perufe this paper, madam.

Jul. To Julia,-Say, from whom?

Luc.

That the contents will fhew.

Jul. Say, fay; who gave it thee?

Luc. Sir Valentine's page; and fent, I think, from Pro

teus:

He would have given it you,
Did in your name receive it;
Jul. Now, by my modefty, a goodly broker!
Dare you prefume to harbour wanton lines ?
To whisper and confpire against my youth?
Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth,
And you an officer fit for the place.
There, take the paper, fee it be return'd;
Or else return no more into my fight.

but I, being in the way,
pardon the fault, I pray.

Luc. To plead for love deferves 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 fhe, that knows I am a maid,
And would not force the letter to my view?
Since maids, in modefty, fay No, to that

Which they would have the profferer construe, Ay.
Fie, fie! how wayward is this foolish love,

That, like a tefty babe, will fcratch the nurse,

And presently, all humbled, kifs the rod!

How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,

B 4

When