Herc. Might move thy stony heart to take pity on my sighs——
Herod. Do not shame me to the day of judgment!
Herc. Alas! I write it in passion!—alas! thou knowest besides my loathed sister, thou art——
Herod. For the Lord’s sake!
Herc. The only hope of my pleasure, the only pleasure of my hopes! Be pleased, therefore, to—— 180
Herod. Cease, I beseech thee!
Herc. Pish! ne’er blush, man; ’tis an uncourtly quality! As for thy lying, as long as there’s policy in’t, it is very passable! Wherefore has Heaven given man tongue but to speak to a man’s own glory? He that cannot swell bigger than his natural skin, nor seem to be in more grace than he is, has not learn’d the very rudiments or A B C of courtship.
Herod. Upon my heart, Fawn, thou pleasest me to the soul; why, look you, for mine own part, I must confess——
Enter Dondolo.
See, here’s the duke’s fool!