This man loves to eat good meat, always provided, he do not pay for it himself, he goes by the name of the _Hungry Courtier_, marry, because I think that name will not sufficiently distinguish him, for no doubt he hath more fellows there, his name is _Lazarello_, he is none of these [same] ordinary eaters, that will devour three breakfasts, and as many dinners, without any prejudice to their Beavers, Drinkings, or Suppers; but he hath a more courtly kind of hunger, and doth hunt more after novelty, than plenty, I'll overhear him. _Laza._ Oh thou most itching kindly appetite, Which every creature in his stomach feels; Oh leave, leave yet at last thus to torment me. Three several Sallads have I sacrific'd, Bedew'd with precious oil and vinegar Already to appease thy greedy wrath. Boy. _Boy._ Sir. _Laza._ Will the Count speak with me? _Boy._ One of his Gentlemen is gone to inform him of your coming, Sir. _Laza._ There is no way left for me to compass th[is] Fish-head, but by being presently made known to the Duke. _Boy._ That will be hard Sir. _Laza._ When I have tasted of this sacred dish, Then shall my bones rest in my Fathers tomb In peace; then shall I dye most willingly, And as a dish be serv'd to satisfie, Deaths hunger, and I will be buried thus: My Bier shall be a charger born by four, The Coffin where I lye, a powd'ring-tub, Bestrew'd with Lettice, and cool Sallad herbs, My Winding-sheet of Tansies, the black Guard Shall be my solemn Mourners, and instead Of ceremonies, wholsom burial Prayers: A printed dirge in rhyme, shall bury me. Instead of tears, let them pour Capon sauce upon my hearse, And salt instead of dust, Manchets for stones, for other glorious shields Give me a Voider; and above my Hearse For a Trutch sword, my naked knife stuck up. [_The Count discovers himself._ _Boy._ Master, the Count's here. _Laza._ Where? my Lord I do beseech you. _Count._ Y'are very welcome Sir, I pray you stand up, you shall dine with me. _Laza._ I do beseech your Lordship by the love I still have born to your honourable house. _Count._ Sir, what need all this? you shall dine with me, I pray rise. _Laza._ Perhaps your Lordship takes me for one of these same fellows, that do as it were respect victuals. _Count._ Oh Sir by no means. _Laza._ Your Lordship has often promised, that whensoever I should affect greatness, your own hand should help to raise me. _Count._ And so much still assure your self of. _Laza._ And though I must confess, I have ever shun'd popularity, by the example of others, yet I do now feel my self a little ambitious, your Lordship is great, and though young, yet a Privy Counsellor.