_Count._ No faith, I dare trust thee, I doe suspect thou art honest; for it is so rare a thing to be honest amongst you, that some one man in an age, may perhaps suspect some two women to be honest, but never believe it verily. _Luci._ Let your return be suddain. _Arri._ U[n]suspected by them. _Duke._ It shall; so shall I best perceive their Love, if there be any; Farewell. _Count._ Let me entreat your grace to stay a little, To know a gentleman, to whom your self Is much beholding; he hath made the sport For your whole Court these eight years, on my knowledge. _Duke._ His name? _Count. Lazarello._ _Duke._ I heard of him this morning, which is he? _Count. Lazarello_, pluck up thy spirits, thy [Fortuns are] now raising, the Duke calls for thee, and thou shalt be acquainted with him. _Laz._ He's going away, and I must of necessity stay here upon business. _Count._ 'Tis all one, thou shalt know him first. _Laz._ Stay a little, if he should offer to take me away with him, and by that means I should loose that I seek for; but if he should I will not goe with him. _Count. Lazarello_, the Duke stayes, wilt thou lose this opportunity? _Laz._ How must I speak to him? _Count._ 'Twas well thought of: you must not talk to him as you doe to an ordinary man, honest plain sence, but you must wind about him: for example, if he should aske you what a clock it is, you must not say; If it please your grace 'tis nine; but thus; thrice three a clock, so please my Sovereign: or thus; Look how many Muses there doth dwell Upon the sweet banks of the learned Well; And just so many stroaks the clock hath struck, And so forth; And you must now and then enter into a description. _Laz._ I hope I shall doe it. _Count._ Come: May it please your grace to take note of a Gentleman, wel seen, deeply read, and throughly grounded in the hidden knowledge of all sallets and potherbs whatsoever. _Duke._ I shall desire to know him more inwardly. _Laz._ I kiss the Oxe-hide of your graces foot. _Count._ Very well: will your grace question him a little? _Duke._ How old are you? _Laz._ Full eight and twenty several Almanacks Have been compiled, all for several years Since first I drew this breath, four prentiships Have I most truely served in this world: And eight and twenty times hath _Phœbus_ Car Run out his yearly course since. _Duke._ I understand you Sir. _Luci._ How like an ignorant Poet he talks. _Duke._ You are eight and twenty year[e] old? what time of the day doe you hold it to be? _Laz._ About the time that mortals whet their knives On thresholds, on their shooe sol[e]s, and on stairs, New bread is grating, and the testy Cook Hath much to doe now, now the Tables all. _Duk._ 'Tis almost dinner time?