Unto myself. I see not Master Walter,
He's ever with his ward. I see not her.
By Master Walter's will she bides alone.
My father stops in town. I can't see him.
My cousin makes his books his company.
I'll go to bed and sleep. No--I'll stay up
And plague my cousin into making love!
For, that he loves me, shrewdly I suspect.
How dull he is that hath not sense to see
What lies before him, and he'd like to find!
I'll change my treatment of him. Cross him, where
Before I used to humour him. He comes,
Poring upon a book. What's that you read?

[Enter MODUS.]

Mod. Latin, sweet cousin.

Helen. 'Tis a naughty tongue,
I fear, and teaches men to lie.

Mod. To lie!

Helen. You study it. You call your cousin sweet,
And treat her as you would a crab. As sour
'Twould seem you think her, as you covet her!
Why how the monster stares, and looks about!
You construe Latin, and can't construe that!

Mod. I never studied women.