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 had almost forgot myself! pray ye, let me kiss your hand, ere I go.

NURSE. 
Faith, mistress, his mouth runs a-water for a kiss; a little would serve
his turn, belike:  let him kiss your hand.

LELIA. 
I’ll not stick for that. [He kisseth her hand.