ture him in wax.
But, mistress--out upon's! wipe your eyes,
For here comes another wooer.

_Enter_ PETER PLOD-ALL.

PETER PLOD-ALL.
Mistress Lelia, God speed you.

LELIA.
That's more than we
Need at this time, for we are doing nothing.

PETER PLOD-ALL.
'Twere as good say a good word as a bad.

LELIA.
But it's more wisdom to say nothing at all,
Than speak to no purpose.

PETER PLOD-ALL.
My purpose is to wive you.

LELIA.
And mine is never to wed you.

PETER PLOD-ALL.
Belike, you are in love with somebody else.

NURSE.
No, but she's lustily promised. Hear you--you with [the] long rifle by
your side--do you lack a wife?

PETER PLOD-ALL.
Call ye this [a] rifle? it's a good backsword.

NURSE.
Why, then, you with [the] backsword, let's see your back.

PETER PLOD-ALL.
Nay, I must speak with Mistress Lelia Before I go.

LELIA.
What would you with me?

PETER PLOD-ALL.
Marry, I have heard very well of you, and so has my father too; and he
has sent me to you a-wooing; and if you have any mind of marriage, I
hope I shall maintain you as well as any husbandman's wife in the
country.

NURSE.
Maintain her? with what?

PETER PLOD-ALL.
Marry, with my lands and livings my father has promised me.

LELIA.
I have heard much of your wealth, but
I never knew you manners before now.

PETER PLOD-ALL.
Faith, I have no manors, but a pretty home-stall; and we have great
store of oxen and horses, and carts and ploughs and household-stuff
'bomination, and great flocks of sheep, and flocks of geese and capons,
and hens and ducks. O, we have a fine yard of pullen! And, thank God,
here's a fine weather for my father's lambs.

LELIA.
I cannot live content in discontent:
For as no music can delight the ears,
Where all the parts of discords are composed.
So wedlock-bands will still consist in jars,
Where in condition there's no sympathy;
Then rest yourself contented with this answer--
I cannot love.

PETER PLOD-ALL.
It's no matter what you say: for my father told me thus much before I
came, that you would be something nice at first; but he bad me like you
ne'er the worse for that, for I were the liker to speed.

LELIA.
Then you were best leave off your suit till
Some other time: and when my leisure serves me
To love you, I'll send you word.

PETER PLOD-ALL.
Will you? well then I'll take my leave of you; and if I may hear from
you, I'll pay the messenger well for his pains. But stay--God's death! I
h