"Sav. A courtier at Your Grace's service.
"Pev. Your name?
"Sav. Savodi, an' please Your Highnesses.
"Pev. Your use?
"Sav. A foolish utensil of state—a clock kept in the waiting- chamber, to count the hours.
"Pev. Are you not one of those who fawn and lie, and cringe like spaniels to those a little higher, and take revenge by tyranny on all beneath?
"Sav. Most true, Your Highnesses.
"Pev. Is't not thy trade to promise what thou canst not do,—to gull the credulous of money, to shut the royal door on unassuming merit —to catch the scandal for thy master's ear, and stop the people's voice….
"Sav. Exactly, an' please Your Highnesses' Worships.
"Pev. Thou dost not now deny it?