Val. If it might be carried thus.
Fred. It shall be, Sir.
Val. I'll see you dead first, with this caution,
Why, sure I think it might be done.
Fred. Yes, easily.
Val. For what time would your Grace desire her Body?
Fred. A month or two, it shall be carried still
As if she kept with you, and were a stranger,
Rather a hater of the grace I offer;
And then I will return her with such honour—
Val. 'Tis very like I dote much on your Honour.
Fred. And load her with such favour too, Valerio—
Val. She never shall claw off? I humbly thank ye.
Fred. I'll make ye both the happiest, and the richest,
And the mightiest too—