Flam. Give me a fair room yet hung with arras, and some great cardinal
to lug me by th' ears, as his endeared minion.
Fran. And thou mayest do the devil knows what villainy.
Flam. And safely.
Fran. Right: you shall see in the country, in harvest-time, pigeons,
though they destroy never so much corn, the farmer dare not present the
fowling-piece to them: why? because they belong to the lord of the
manor; whilst your poor sparrows, that belong to the Lord of Heaven,
they go to the pot for 't.
Flam. I will now give you some politic instruction. The duke says he
will give you pension; that 's but bare promise; get it under his hand.
For I have known men that have come from serving against the Turk, for
three or four months they have had pension to buy them new wooden legs,
and fresh plasters; but after, 'twas not to be had. And this miserable
courtesy shows as if a tormentor should give hot cordial drinks to one
three-quarters dead o' th' rack, only to fetch the miserable soul again
to endure more dog-days.
[Exit Francisco. Enter Hortensio, a young Lord, Zanche, and two more.
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