Iul. Some loue of yours, hath writ to you in Rime Lu. That I might sing it (Madam) to a tune: Giue me a Note, your Ladiship can set Iul. As little by such toyes, as may be possible: Best sing it to the tune of Light O, Loue Lu. It is too heauy for so light a tune Iu. Heauy? belike it hath some burden then? Lu. I: and melodious were it, would you sing it, Iu. And why not you? Lu. I cannot reach so high Iu. Let's see your Song: How now Minion? Lu. Keepe tune there still; so you will sing it out: And yet me thinkes I do not like this tune Iu. You doe not? Lu. No (Madam) tis too sharpe Iu. You (Minion) are too saucie Lu. Nay, now you are too flat; And marre the concord, with too harsh a descant: There wanteth but a Meane to fill your Song Iu. The meane is dround with you vnruly base Lu. Indeede I bid the base for Protheus Iu. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me; Here is a coile with protestation: Goe, get you gone: and let the papers lye: You would be fingring them, to anger me Lu. She makes it stra[n]ge, but she would be best pleas'd To be so angred with another Letter Iu. Nay, would I were so angred with the same: Oh hatefull hands, to teare such louing words; Iniurious Waspes, to feede on such sweet hony, And kill the Bees that yeelde it, with your stings; Ile kisse each seuerall paper, for amends: Looke, here is writ, kinde Iulia: vnkinde Iulia, As in reuenge of thy ingratitude, I throw thy name against the bruzing-stones, Trampling contemptuously on thy disdaine. And here is writ, Loue wounded Protheus. Poore wounded name: my bosome, as a bed, Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd; And thus I search it with a soueraigne kisse. But twice, or thrice, was Protheus written downe: Be calme (good winde) blow not a word away, Till I haue found each letter, in the Letter, Except mine own name: That, some whirle-winde beare Vnto a ragged, fearefull, hanging Rocke, And throw it thence into the raging Sea. Loe, here in one line is his name twice writ: Poore forlorne Protheus, passionate Protheus: To the sweet Iulia: that ile teare away: And yet I will not, sith so prettily He couples it, to his complaining Names; Thus will I fold them, one vpon another; Now kisse, embrace, contend, doe what you will Lu. Madam: dinner is ready: and your father staies Iu. Well, let vs goe Lu. What, shall these papers lye, like Tel-tales here? Iu. If you respect them; best to take them vp Lu. Nay, I was taken vp, for laying them downe. Yet here they shall not lye, for catching cold Iu. I see you haue a months minde to them Lu. I (Madam) you may say what sights you see; I see things too, although you iudge I winke Iu. Come, come, wilt please you goe. Exeunt. Scoena Tertia. Enter Antonio and Panthino. Protheus. Ant. Tell me Panthino, what sad talke was that, Wherewith my brother held you in the Cloyster? Pan. 'Twas of his Nephew Protheus, your Sonne