“Rare, master, rare.”
“This is a good dish, Leporello.”
“My faith, but I would e’en eat of it too. I would he would ask me.”
“Another plate, good Leporello. Pour out some wine, Leporello.”
“Verily, if I do not eat, I shall fail in my strength. Faith, I will steal, ’tis not much more on my conscience.”
“Leporello, my friend, whistle.”
“He fain would stay my eating.”
“Marry, how doth a man whistle, master?”
“Not with his mouth full.”
“Master, lay it down that ’tis no fault of mine. The cook is too good; he is a tempter.”