Bal. Endear, and intimate; good, I assure you. I will endear and intimate Mellida into the dungeon presently. 51
Pier. Will[239] Pandulfo Feliche wait on me.
Bal. I will make him come, most retort and obtuse, to you presently. I think Sir Jeffrey talks like a counsellor. Go to, god’s neaks, I think I tickle it.
Pier. I’ll seem to wind yon fool with kindest arm.
He that’s ambitious-minded, and but man,
Must have his followers beasts, damn’d[240] slavish sots,
Whose service is obedience, and whose wit
Reacheth no further than to admire their lord, 60
And stare in adoration of his worth.
I loathe a slave, raked out of common mud,
Should seem to sit in counsel with my heart.
High-honour’d blood’s too squeamish to assent
And lend a hand to an ignoble act:
Poison from roses who could e’er abstract?—
Enter Pandulfo.
How now, Pandulfo? weeping for thy son?
Pan. No, no, Piero, weeping for my sins:
Had I been a good father, he had been
A gracious son.
Pier. Pollution must be purged. 70
Pan. Why taint’st thou then the air with stench of flesh,
And human putrefaction’s noisome scent?
I pray his body. Who less boon can crave
Than to bestow upon the dead his grave?