Orl. What meanes he by theise frantycke sygnes of myrthe? Cossen Reinaldo, cossen Oliver, Why does he growe thus guyddie?
Gan. What says the emperours nephewe? does he grudge
That I should take a pore content in shame?
Your envye will discredite you, my lorde.
Gentyllmen, have you not hearde of Aesopps dogge
That once lay snarlinge in the oxes maunger?
Orl. Rei. Oli. What then?
Gan. He was an arrant peevyshe curre,
Nothynge but so; and I protest syncerlye
I would have hangd that dogge (had he beene myne)
Althoughe a lyonnesse had beene hys dame.
Orl. Your dogs comparysons a saucye foole.
Gan. Sir, I am just of your opynion I;
For what extreame beast but a foolishe curre
Would envye that which he hym selfe dispyses?
Be not offended, Sir, thoughe symple I
Can live in peace at home with hungrye leeks
And never curse my planettes. I can leape
With more actyvitie then yesterday.—Capers.
Does thys offend you, Sir?
Orl. Exceedinglye.
Rei. Were you thus nymble ever from a boy?
Gan. No, in good faythe it taks me of the sodayne.
Oli. Your harte is lighter then it needs, I doute.