did nod; and I say, 'Ay.'
And that set together is noddy.
Now you have taken the pains to set it together,
take it for your pains.
No, no; you shall have it for bearing the letter.
Well, I perceive I must be fain to bear with you.
Why sir, how do you bear with me?
Marry, sir, the letter, very orderly; having nothing
but the word 'noddy' for my pains.
Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit.
And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse.
Come come, open the matter in brief: what said she?
Open your purse, that the money and the matter may
be both at once delivered.
Well, sir, here is for your pains. What said she?
Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her.
Why, couldst thou perceive so much from her?
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 your
mind. Give her no token but stones; for she's as
hard as steel.
What said she? nothing?
No, not so much as 'Take this for thy pains.' To
testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testerned
me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your
letters yourself: and so, sir, I'll commend you to my master.
Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from wreck,
Which cannot perish having thee aboard,
Being destined to a drier death on shore.
I must go send some better messenger:
I fear my Julia would not deign my lines,
Receiving them from such a worthless post.
But say, Lucetta, now we are alone,
Wouldst thou then counsel me to fall in love?
Ay, madam, so you stumble not unheedfully.
Of all the fair resort of gentlemen
That every day with parle encounter me,
In thy opinion which is worthiest love?
Please you repeat their names, I'll show my mind
According to my shallow simple skill.
What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour?
As of a knight well-spoken, neat and fine;
But, were I you, he never should be mine.
What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio?
Well of his wealth; but of himself, so so.
What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus?
Lord, Lord! to see what folly reigns in us!
How now! what means this passion at his name?
Pardon, dear madam: 'tis a passing shame
That I, unworthy body as I am,
Should censure thus