Who cannot? I?
'Slight, I will serve her with thee, for a --
FACE. Nay,
But understand: I'll give you composition.
SUB. I will not treat with thee; what! sell my fortune?
'Tis better than my birth-right. Do not murmur:
Win her, and carry her. If you grumble, Dol
Knows it directly.
FACE. Well, sir, I am silent.
Will you go help to fetch in Don in state?
[EXIT.]
SUB. I follow you, sir. We must keep Face in awe,
Or he will over-look us like a tyrant.
[RE-ENTER FACE, INTRODUCING SURLY DISGUISED AS A SPANIARD.]
Brain of a tailor! who comes here? Don John!
SUR. Senores, beso las manos a vuestras mercedes.
SUB. Would you had stoop'd a little, and kist our anos!
FACE. Peace, Subtle.
SUB. Stab me; I shall never hold, man.
He looks in that deep ruff like a head in a platter,
Serv'd in by a short cloke upon two trestles.
FACE. Or, what do you say to a collar of brawn, cut down
Beneath the souse, and wriggled with a knife?
SUB. 'Slud, he does look too fat to be a Spaniard.
FACE. Perhaps some Fleming or some Hollander got him
In d'Alva's time; count Egmont's bastard.
SUB. Don,
Your scurvy, yellow, Madrid face is welcome.
SUR. Gratia.
SUB. He speaks out of a fortification.
Pray God he have no squibs in those deep sets.
SUR. Por dios, senores, muy linda casa!
SUB. What says he?
FACE. Praises the house, I think;
I know no more but's action.
SUB. Yes, the casa,
My precious Diego, will prove fair enough
To cozen you in.
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