Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphos'd me;--
Made me neglect my studies, lose my time,
War with good counsel, set the world at nought;
Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought.

[Enter SPEED.]

SPEED.
Sir Proteus, save you! Saw you my master?

PROTEUS.
But now he parted hence to embark for Milan.

SPEED.
Twenty to one then he is shipp'd already,
And I have play'd the sheep in losing him.

PROTEUS.
Indeed a sheep doth very often stray,
An if the shepherd be a while away.

SPEED.
You conclude that my master is a shepherd then, and
I a sheep?

PROTEUS.
I do.

SPEED.
Why then, my horns are his horns, whether I wake or sleep.