Men. Which forthwith converts itself into proper flesh and blood—ergo, if my father had been an eater of onions, for instance, he would have begotten me with a strong breath; on which I should have said to him, ‘Hold, I must come of no such nastiness as that, I promise you.’
Nuñ. Ah, now I see the old saying is true.
Men. What is that?
Nuñ. That hunger sharpens wit.
Men. Knave, do you insinuate—
Nuñ. I only know it is now three o’clock, and we have neither of us yet had any thing but our own spittle to chew.
Men. Perhaps so, but there are distinctions of rank. An Hidalgo, sir, has no belly.
Nuñ. Oh Lord! that I were an Hidalgo!
Men. Possibly; servants must learn moderation in all things. But let me hear no more of the matter; we are under Isabel’s window.
Nuñ. There again—If you are so devoted an admirer, why on earth, sir, don’t you ask her in marriage of her father? by doing which you would kill two birds with one stone; get yourself something to eat, and his grandchildren squires.