LANCE                        Here is the catalogue of her conditions. ‘Inprimis. She can fetch and carry.’ Why, a horse can do no more – nay, a horse cannot fetch, but only carry – therefore is she better than a jade. ‘Item. She can milk.’ Look you, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands.

[Enter Speed]

SPEED            How now, Signor Lance? What news with your mastership?

LANCE With my master’s ship? Why, it is at sea.

SPEED Well, your old vice still – mistake the word. What news then in your paper?

LANCE The blackest news that ever thou heard’st.

SPEED Why, man? How black?

LANCE Why, as black as ink.                        (3.1.266-276)

Lance has a catalogue of his beloved’s conditions, an inventory of her particular qualities, as if he’s making a sales pitch or setting out the pros and cons. Inprimis—in the first place—she can fetch and carry. A low bar then, for a horse can do no more; the archetypal beast of burden can do no more than that! in fact—a horse can’t fetch, it can only carry! (it would be nice if Crab’s ears prick up again at fetch?) therefore is she better than a jade. This is great! My girlfriend is superior to a horse! Item—and the next thing—she can milk. (She is, after all, a milkmaid; this is an expectable quality or rather skill for her to possess.) Look you, though, a sweet virtue in a maid with clean hands. That’s no bad thing, is it, for a girl without grubby hands to be able to do? (Could a somewhat lascivious milking gesture accompany this? it certainly could, especially as horse means that whore is in the mix. Lance can look disapproving at any sniggers from the audience. So can Crab.)

And then it’s Speed, whom Lance has been meant to go and find. What’s up, he says, what news with your mastership? How are you doing, my good man? Wilful misunderstanding, of course: with my master’s ship? Why, it is at sea. It’s sailed, and it’s all over the place. Well, your old vice still, observes Speed, with some weariness—mistake the word. I see you still can’t resist a pun, even a really laboured one… What news then in your paper? And for once there’s a piece of paper on stage in this play that isn’t a letter—and Lance is certainly not passing on the rather urgent message he was given by Valentine to deliver to Speed. Oh, the blackest news that ever though heard’st. It’s terrible, it’s the absolute worst. Is he going to tell Speed about Valentine’s banishment then? Don’t be silly. Why, man? How black? What’s going on, what’s so terrible about it? Why, as black as ink. BOOM. Even Crab could look embarrassed at that one.