Vivien. Wouldst thou do me a favor?
Dagonet. What be it?
Vivien. Dost thou love the king?
Dagonet. Yea that I do, though he be sometimes like a great child,
Spoiled on the weather-side.
There be something grieves him.
Vivien. Yea, well hath he cause to grieve!
Dagonet. Thou dost say so! What be the cause?
Vivien. The queen.
Dagonet. Why, she be well favored?