HOST  Hark, what fine change is in the music.

JULIA  Ay, that ‘change’ is the spite.

HOST You would have them always play but one thing?

JULIA I would always have one play but one thing. But Host, doth this Sir Proteus that we talk on often resort unto this gentlewoman?

HOST. I tell you what Lance his man told me, he loved her out of all nick.

JULIA Where is Lance?

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.      (4.2.63-72)

The host is something of a connoisseur, and anxious, still, that Julia should enjoy the performance: hark, what fine change is in the music. Listen to this bit, now that’s what you call a modulation! Ay, that ‘change’ is the spite, not a key change, but the inconstancy itself, the fact of change is the spite, the sting in the tail, the hurtful thing. The host persists: you would have them always play but one thing? don’t you want there to be variety in music, rather than the same tune played the same way, over and over again? Well, I would always have one play but one thing: I would have a man be constant above all else, play only one part, only one song (there may be a bawdy implication in thing).

Then Julia remembers herself; she needs more information, no matter how painful it might be: but Host, doth this Sir Proteus that we talk on often resort unto this gentlewoman? Is—he—often here, doing this sort of thing, wooing—her? And the host confirms it, and more besides: I tell you what Lance his man told me, he loved her out of all nick. Confirmation, in Lance’s authentic voice, gossip from the horse’s mouth. Lance said that he was head over heels, in love with her past all reckoning. (The nick refers to the keeping of a tally, with notches on a stick, such as an innkeeper would be familiar with. This one’s off the charts.)

And where is Lance, asks Julia, desperately—perhaps he’ll be able to reassure, tell her it’s all a mistake? He’s gone to seek his dog, which tomorrow, by his master’s command, he must carry for a present to his lady. This is setting up a joke later on, but it risks introducing a note of bathos—and also outrage—into the scene: Proteus has commanded Lance to give CRAB to Silvia, and Lance has acquiesced? What is Proteus even thinking? What about what CRAB wants? Peace, stand aside, hisses Julia, urgently, the company parts. They’re getting ready to go, we need to get out of the way…