Nym. Faunus? an old courtier? I wonder thou art in no better clothes and place, Faunus!
Herc. I may be in better place, sir, and with them[143] of more regard, if this match of our duke’s intermarriage with the heir of Urbin proceed, the Duke of Urbin
dying, and our lord coming in his lady’s right of title to your dukedom. 238
Herod. Why then shalt thou, O yeoman of the bottles, become a maker of magnificoes. Thou shalt beg some odd suit, and change thy old shirt,[144] pare thy beard, cleanse thy teeth, and eat apricocks,[145] marry a rich widow, or a crack’d lady, whose case thou shalt make good. Then, my Pythagoras, shall thou and I make a transmigration of souls: thou shalt marry my daughter, or my wife shall be thy gracious mistress. Seventeen punks shall be thy proportion. Thou shalt beg to thy comfort of clean linen, eat no more fresh beef at supper, or save[146] the broth for next day’s porridge; but the fleshpots of Egypt shall fatten thee, and the grasshopper shall flourish in thy summer. 251
Nym. And what dost thou think of the duke’s overture of marriage?
Herod. What do you think?
Herc. May I speak boldly as at Aleppo?
Nym. Speak till thy lungs ache, talk out thy teeth; here are none of those cankers, these mischiefs of society, intelligencers, or informers, that will cast rumour into the teeth of some Lælius Balbus,[147] a man cruelly
eloquent and bloodily learned. No; what sayest thou, Faunus? 261
Herc. With an undoubted breast thus:—I may speak boldly?