We have our prayers, our curses and our prayers,
And we can give a great name or a bad one.
[MAYOR is shoving BRIAN out before him with one hand. He keeps his face to CHAMBERLAIN, and keeps bowing. The CHAMBERLAIN shoves him with his staff.
MAYOR.
We could not make the poet eat, my lord.
[CHAMBERLAIN shoves him with staff.
Much honoured [is shoved again]—honoured to speak with you, my lord;
But I’ll go find the girl that he’s to marry.
She’s coming, but I’ll hurry her, my lord.
Between ourselves, my lord [is shoved again], she is a great coaxer.