I care not, though, like Anacharsis, I were pounded to
death in a mortar: and yet that death were fitter for usurers, gold and
themselves to be beaten together, to make a most cordial cullis for the
devil.
He hath his uncle's villainous look already,
In decimo-sexto. [Enter Courtier.] Now, sir, what are you?
Court. It is the pleasure, sir, of the young duke,
That you forbear the presence, and all rooms
That owe him reverence.
Flam. So the wolf and the raven are very pretty fools when they are
young. It is your office, sir, to keep me out?
Court. So the duke wills.
Flam. Verily, Master Courtier, extremity is not to be used in all
offices: say, that a gentlewoman were taken out of her bed about
midnight, and committed to Castle Angelo, to the tower yonder, with
nothing about her but her smock, would it not show a cruel part in the
gentleman-porter to lay claim to her upper garment, pull it o'er her
head and ears, and put her in naked?
Court. Very good: you are merry. [Exit.
Flam. Doth he make a court-ejectment of me? a flaming fire-brand casts
more smoke without a chimney than within 't.
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