Flam. [Aside]. If this soldier had a patent to beg in churches, then he would tell them stories.
Mar. I have been a soldier too.
Fran. de Med. How have you thrived?
Mar. Faith, poorly.
Fran. de Med. That's the misery of peace: only outsides are then respected. As ships seem very great upon the river, which show very little upon the seas, so some men i' the court seem colossuses in a chamber, who, if they came into the field, would appear pitiful pigmies.
Flam. Give me a fair room yet hung with arras, and some great cardinal to lug me by the ears as his endeared minion.
Fran. de Med. And thou mayst do the devil knows what villany.
Flam. And safely.
Fran. de Med. Right: you shall see in the country, in harvest-time, pigeons, though they destroy never so much corn, the farmer dare not present the fowling-piece to them: why? because they belong to the lord of the manor; whilst your poor sparrows, that belong to the Lord of Heaven, they go to the pot for't.
Flam. I will now give you some politic instructions. The duke says he will give you a pension: that's but bare promise; get it under his hand. For I have known men that have come from serving against the Turk, for three or four months they have had pension to buy them new wooden legs and fresh plasters; but, after, 'twas not to be had. And this miserable courtesy shows as if a tormentor should give hot cordial drinks to one three quarters dead o' the rack, only to fetch the miserable soul again to endure more dogdays. [Exit Francisco de Medicis.