ALB. Have mercy; for Heaven's sake, have mercy, Signor Polydore.
POL. It is for me to implore it of you.
ALB. Grant me mercy; I ask it on my bended knees.
POL. I ought to be in that attitude rather than you.
[Footnote: The two old men are kneeling opposite to one another.]
ALB. Pity my misfortune.
POL. After such an outrage I am the postulant.
ALB. Your goodness is heart-rending.
POL. You abash me with so much humility.
ALB. Once more, pardon.