How now Minion?
Lu. Keepe tune there still; so you will sing it out:
And yet me thinkes I do not like this tune

Iu. You doe not?
Lu. No (Madam) tis too sharpe

Iu. You (Minion) are too saucie

Lu. Nay, now you are too flat;
And marre the concord, with too harsh a descant:
There wanteth but a Meane to fill your Song

Iu. The meane is dround with you vnruly base

Lu. Indeede I bid the base for Protheus

Iu. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me;
Here is a coile with protestation:
Goe, get you gone: and let the papers lye:
You would be fingring them, to anger me

Lu. She makes it stra[n]ge, but she would be best pleas'd
To be so angred with another Letter

Iu. Nay, would I were so angred with the same:
Oh hatefull hands, to teare such louing words;
Iniurious Waspes, to feede on such sweet hony,
And kill the Bees that yeelde it, with your stings;
Ile kisse each seuerall paper, for amends: