Fakrash.
It is no matter. Thou shalt receive other rewards more to thy liking.
Horace.
[Alarmed.] No, no! I assure you I don't want anything. I can get along quite well by myself. Because—of course, you wouldn't know it, but—[with pride]—I've got a client now!
Fakrash.
[Calmly.] I know it. Was he not my first gift unto thee?
Horace.
[Staggered.] Your first——? No, no—don't you go taking credit for that! He assured me himself that he came of his own accord!
Fakrash.
He knew no better. Nevertheless it was I that procured him for thee.