And none of them been worn; and, for a name,
Now puts the drowsy and neglected act
Freshly on me: ’tis surely for a name.
165 Lucio. I warrant [it is]: and thy head stands so tickle on thy shoulders, that a milkmaid, if [she be] in love, may sigh it off. Send after the duke, and appeal to him.
Claud. I have done so, but he’s not to be found.
I prithee, Lucio, do me this kind service:
170 This day my sister should the cloister enter
And there receive her approbation:
Acquaint her with the danger of my state;
Implore her, in my [voice], that she make friends