HOST.
Gone to seek his dog, which tomorrow, by his master’s command, he must carry for a present to his lady.
JULIA.
Peace, stand aside. The company parts.
PROTEUS.
Sir Thurio, fear not you; I will so plead
That you shall say my cunning drift excels.
THURIO.
Where meet we?
PROTEUS.
At Saint Gregory’s well.
THURIO.
Farewell.
[Exeunt Thurio and Musicians.]
Enter Silvia above.
PROTEUS.
Madam, good even to your ladyship.
SILVIA.
I thank you for your music, gentlemen.
Who is that that spake?