Volume Vi Part 29 (1/2)

'Twas nothing, fellow, but for 'sample's sake.

PENULO.

Well, sir, I am content this once it to take.

But, sirrah, you must know that squall is the duke's son, That now by mischance is stroken stark dumb, In fetching home his sister, that ran away from hence.

LENTULO.

Is she then a runaway? O pa.s.sing wench!

I thought as much; now, good Lord, to see That she and I now akin should be.

O cuckally[108] luck! O heavy chance, O!

I runaway, she runaway: go together, go!

PENULO.

But all the court laments, and sore weeps for it.

LENTULO.

All the court? thou liest: the Court-gate weeps not a whit.

_Enter_ BOMELIO, _like a counterfeit Physician_.

BOMELIO.

_Bien[109] venu, chi diue ve mi nou intendite signeur, no_.

I have a piece of work in hand now, that all the world must not know.

LENTULO.

c.o.c.k's nowns, the devil! a-G.o.d's name, what's he?

PENULO.

Some Spaniard or foreign stranger he seems to be.

BOMELIO.

_Dio vou salvi, signore, e voutre gratio pavero mouchato_.

LENTULO.

I have no pleasure in thee: I pray thee, get thee gone.

PENULO.

What would you, sir?

BOMELIO.

_Monsieur, par ma foy_, am one have the grand knowledge in the skience of fiskick.

Can make dem hole have been all life sick; Can make to seco see, and te dumb speak; Can make te lame go, and be ne'er so weak.

PENULO.

Can you so, sir? what countryman are you, I pray?

BOMELIO.

E be Italian, Neapolitan: e come a Venice[110] a toder day.

LENTULO.

And you can speak any pedlar's French,[111] tell me what I say.

BOMELIO.