Tit. But what says Jupiter, I ask thee?[4603]
Clo. Alas, sir, I know not Jupiter; I never drank with[4604][4605]
him in all my life.[4604] 85
Tit. Why, villain, art not thou the carrier?
Clo. Ay, of my pigeons, sir; nothing else.[4606]
Tit. Why, didst thou not come from heaven?
Clo. From heaven! alas, sir, I never came there: God[4607]
forbid I should be so bold to press to heaven in my young[4608] 90
days. Why, I am going with my pigeons to the tribunal
plebs, to take up a matter of brawl betwixt my uncle and
one of the emperial's men.
Marc. Why, sir, that is as fit as can be to serve for
your oration; and let him deliver the pigeons to the 95
emperor from you.
Tit. Tell me, can you deliver an oration to the emperor
with a grace?
Clo. Nay, truly, sir, I could never say grace in all my life.
Tit. Sirrah, come hither: make no more ado, 100
But give your pigeons to the emperor:
By me thou shalt have justice at his hands.
Hold, hold; meanwhile here's money for thy charges.[4609]
Give me pen and ink.[4610]
Sirrah, can you with a grace deliver a supplication? 105