fhepherd for the food follows not the sheep; 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 Baâ. Pro. But doft thou hear? gaveft thou my letter to Julia?

Speed. Ay, Sir, 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 small a pasture for such store of

muttons.

Speed. If the ground be over-charg'd, you were best ftick her.

Pro. Nay, in that you are a ftray, 'twere beft pound you.

Speed. Nay, Sir, 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 said she did the nod? [Speed nods. Speed. I.

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

Speed. You miftook, Sir: I faid, she did nod: And you ask me, if she did nod, and I faid, I.

I, a loft Mutton, gave your letter to her, a lac'd Mutton;] Speed calls himself a loft Mutton, because he had loft his Mafter, and because Protheus had been proving him a Sheep. But why does he call the Lady a lac'd Mutton? Wenchers are to this Day called Mutton-mongers: and confequently the Object of their Paffion muft, by the Metaphor, be the Mutton. And Cotgrave, in his English-French Dictionary, explains Lac'd Mutton, Une Garfe, putain, fille de Foye. And Mr.

Pro. And that fet together, is noddy.

Speed. Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for your pains.

Pro. No, no, you fhall 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. Befhrew me, but you have a quick wit.

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 at once deliver'd.

Pro. Well, Sir, here is for your pains; what faid fhe?

Speed. Truly, Sir, I think you'll hardly win her.

Pro Why? could't thou perceive fo much from her? Speed. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; No, not fo much as a ducket 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 ftones; for fhe's as hard as steel, Pro. What, faid fhe nothing?

Speed. No, not fo much as-take this for thy pains. To teftify your bounty, I thank you, you have teftern'd

me: 9

In requital whereof, henceforth carry your letter your
felf: and fo, Sir, I'll commend you to my mafter.
Pro. Go, go, be gone, to fave your fhip from wreck,
Which cannot perish, having thee aboard,
Being deftin'd to a drier death on fhore.

I must go fend fome better meffenger:

9 you have teftern'd me.] tefer, tefiern, or teften, that is, You have gratified me with a with a fixpence.

I fear,

I fear, my Julia would not deign my lines,
Receiving them from fuch a worthless poft.

SCENE

[Exeunt feverally.

III.

Changes to Julia's Chamber.

Enter Julia and Lucetta.

UT fay, Lucetta, now we are alone,

gal. By

Would'ft thou then counsel me to fall in love? Luc. Ay, madam, fo you ftumble not unheedfully. ful. Of all the fair refort of gentlemen,

That ev'ry day with parle encounter me,

In thy opinion which is worthieft love?

Luc. Please you, repeat their names; I'll fhew my mind,

According to my fhallow fimple skill.

Jul. What think'ft thou of the fair Sir Eglamour? Luc. As of a Knight well spoken, neat and fine; But were I you, he never fhould be mine.

Jul. What think'ft thou of the rich Mercatio? Luc. Well of his wealth; but of himfeif, fo, fo. Ja. What think'ft thou of the gentle Protheus? Luc. Lord, lord! to fee what folly reigns in us! Jul. How now? what means this paffion at his name? Lac Pardon, dear madam, 'tis a paffing fhame, That I, unworthy body as I am,

Should cenfure thus on lovely gentlemen.

Jul. Why not on Protheus, as on all the reft?
Luc. Then thus; of many good, I think him beft.
Jul. Your reafon ?

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. Ay, if you thought your love not caft away.

Jul. Why, he of all the reft hath never mov'd me.
Luc. Yet he of all the reft, I think, beft loves ye.
Jul. His little fpeaking fhews his love but small.
Luc. The fire, that's clofeft kept, burns most of all.
Jul. They do not love, that do not shew their love.
Luc. Oh, they love least, that let men know their love.
Jul. I would, I knew his mind.

Luc. Perufe this paper, madam.
Jul. To Julia; fay, 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
Protheus..

He would have giv'n it you, but I, being in the way, Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault, I pray, Jul. Now, by my modefty, a goodly broker!! Dare

you prefume to harbour wanton lines? To whifper and confpire against my youth? Now, truft 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 elfe return no more into my fight.

Luc. To plead for love deferves more fee than hate. Jul. Will ye be gone

Luc. That you may ruminate.

[Exit.

Jul. 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 would not force the letter to my view?
Since maids, in modefty, fay No, to that
Which they would have the proff'rer conftrue, A.
Fie, fie; how wayward is this foolish love,
That, like a tefty babe, will scratch the nurse,
And presently, all humbled, kifs the rod ?

a good'y broker. ] A broker was used for matchmaker, fometimes for a procurefs.

How

How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,

When willingly I would have had her here!
How angerly I taught my brow to frown,
When inward joy enforc'd my heart to fmile!
My penance is to call Lucetta back,

And afk remiffion for my folly paft.
What ho! Lucetta!

Re-enter Lucetta.

Luc. What would your ladyfhip?

Jul. Is't 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.

Jul. Why didst thou stoop then?

Luc. To take a paper up, that I let fall.

ful. And is that paper 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.

Fal. 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 ladyfhip can set.

Jul. 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.

2

Jul. Heavy? belike, it hath fome burden then. Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you fing it. Jul. And why not you?

Luc. I cannot reach fo high.

Jul. Let's fee your fong:

oblinacy.

- ftomach on your meat.] Stomach was used for pafon or

How