Speed. Why then my horns are his horns, whether I wake or sleep. Pro. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep. Speed. This proves me still a sheep. Pro. True; and thy master a shepherd, Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance. Pro. It shall go hard, but I'll prove it by another. 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. Pro. But dost thou hear? gav'st thou my letter to Julia? 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 2 A term for a courtezan. over, 'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover. Pro. But what said she? did she nod. Speed. I. Pro. Nod, I? why, that's noddy. 3 [SPEED nods. Speed. You mistook, sir; I say, she did nod: and you ask me, if she did nod; and I say, I. 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. Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her. her? 3 A game at cards. + Ill betide. 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, be gone, to save your ship from wreck; Which cannot perish, having thee aboard, SCENE II. The same. Garden of Julia's house. Jul. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, 5 Given me a six-pence. 6 Talk. Luc. Please you, repeat their names, I'll shew 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; But, were I you, he never should be mine. Jul. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio? name? Luc. Pardon, dear madam; 'tis a passing shame, Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest? Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason; I think him so, because I think him so. Jul. And would'st thou have me cast my love on him? Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away. love. Jul. I would, I knew his mind. 7 Pass sentence. Luc. Peruse this paper, madam. Jul. To Julia, Say, from whom? Luc. That the contents will shew, 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, Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines ? Luc. To plead for love deserves 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 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. Fie, fie! how wayward is this foolish love, That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse, And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod! How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence, When willingly I would have had her here!, How angerly I taught my brow to frown, • A matchmaker. 1 |