072

War with good counsel, fet the world at nought;
Made wit with mufing weak, heart fick with thought.

5

Speed. Sir Protheus, fave you; faw you my master?
Pro. But now he parted hence, t'imbark for Milan.
Speed. Twenty to one then he is fhipp'd already,
And I have play'd the fheep in lofing him.

Pro. Indeed, a fheep doth very often ftray,
And if the shepherd be awhile away.

Speed. You conclude that my mafter is a fhepherd then, and I a fheep?

Pro. I do.

Speed. Why then my horns are his horns, whether
I wake or fleep.

Pre. A filly anfwer, and fitting well a fheep.
Speed. This proves me still a fheep.

Pro. True; and thy mafter a fhepherd.

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

Pro. The fheep for fodder follows the fhepherd, the

5 Made wit with mufing weak.] For made read make Thou, Ju lia, haft made me war with good counsel, and make wit weak with mufing.

6 his whole fcene, like many others in these plays (fome of which I believe were writ en by Shakespear, and others interpo. lated by the players) is compofed of the lowest and most trifling conceits, to be accounted for only from the grofs tafte of

the age he lived in; Populo at placerent. I wish I had authority to leave them out; but I have done all I could, fet a mark of reprobation upon them throughout this edition. POPE.

That this, like many other Scenes, is mean and vulgar, will be univerfally allowed; but that it was interpolated by the players feems advanced without any proof, only to give a greater licence to criticism. shep

N 4

fhepherd for the food follows not the fheep; thou for wages followeft thy mafter, thy mafter 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, Sir, I, a loft mutton, gave your letter to her, a lac'd mutton, 7 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 beft flick her.

8

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

Speed. Nay, Sir, lefs 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: did fhe nod? [Speed nods. Speed. I.

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

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

afk me,

7 I, a loft Mutton, gave your letter to her, a lac'd Murton;] Speed calls himself a loft Mutton, becaufe he had loft his Matter, and because Protheus had been ring him a Sheep. But why dces he call the Lady a lac'd Mutton? Wenchers are to this Day called mutton-mongers: and conf quently the Object of their Paffion muft, by the Metaphor, be the Mutton. And Cotgrave in his English-French Dictionary, expl-ins lac d'Mutton, Une Garfe, putain, fille de Joye. And Mr.

Motteux has rendered this Paffage of Rabelais in the Prologue of his fourth book, Cailles coiphees mignonnement chantans, in this manner Coated Quails and laced Mutton waggishly finging. So that lac'd Mutton has been a fort of Standard Phrase for Girls of Pleasure. THEOBALD.

Nay, in that you are attray.] For the Realon Protheus gives, Dr. Thirlby advifes that we should read, a tray, i. e. a stray fheep; which continues Protheus's Banter upon Speed. THEOBALD.

Pro.

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, 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 the ?

Speed. Open your purfe, 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'ft 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 the 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 yourfelf: and fo, Sir, I'll commend you to my mafter.

Pro. Go, go be gone, to fave your thip 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] You have gratified me with a

tefter, or teften, that is, with a fixpence.

I fear,

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

[Exeunt feverally.

Ful.

SCENE III,

Changes to Julia's Chamber.

Enter Julia and Lucetta.

UT fay, Lucetta, now we are alone,

Would't thou then counfel me to fall in love?

Luc. Ay, madam, fo you ftumble not unheedfully.
Jul. Of all the fair refort of gentlemen,

That ev'ry day with parle encounter me,
In thy opinion which is worthieft love?

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

According to my fhallow fimple 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 fhould be mine.

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 Protheus ? Luc. Lord, lord! to fee what folly reigns in us! Jul. How now? what means this paffion 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 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'd thou have me caft 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 closest kept, burns most of all. ful. They do not love, that do not fhew their love. Luc. Oh, they love leaft, that let men know their love. ful. 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 whisper 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 returned;
Or else 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.

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

a goodly broker.] A broker was used for matchmaker,

fometimes for a procurets.

How