VALENTINE.
Not mine. My gloves are on.
SPEED.
Why, then, this may be yours, for this is but one.
VALENTINE.
Ha? Let me see. Ay, give it me, it’s mine.
Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine!
Ah, Silvia, Silvia!
SPEED.
[Calling.] Madam Silvia! Madam Silvia!
VALENTINE.
How now, sirrah?
SPEED.
She is not within hearing, sir.
VALENTINE.
Why, sir, who bade you call her?
SPEED.
Your worship, sir, or else I mistook.
VALENTINE.
Well, you’ll still be too forward.
SPEED.
And yet I was last chidden for being too slow.