_Laza._ Hunger, valour, love, ambition are alike pleasing, and let our Philosophers say what they will, are one kind of heat, only hunger is the safest: ambition is apt to fall; love and valour are not free from dangers; only hunger, begotten of some old limber Courtier, in pan'de hose, and nurs'd by an Attourneys wife; now so thriven, that he need not fear to be of the great Turks guard: is so free from all quarrels and dangers, so full of hopes, joyes, and ticklings, that my life is not so dear to me as his acquaintance. _Enter Lazarello's boy._ _Boy._ Sir the Fish head is gone. _Laza._ Then be thou henceforth dumb, with thy ill-boding voice. Farewell _Millain_, farewell Noble Duke, Farewell my fellow Courtiers all, with whom, I have of yore made many a scrambling meal In corners, behind Arasses, on stairs; And in the action oftentimes have spoil'd, Our Doublets and our Hose with liquid stuff: Farewell you lusty Archers of the Guard, To whom I now doe give the bucklers up, And never more with any of your coat Will eat for wagers, now you happy be, When this shall light upon you, think on me: You sewers, carvers, ushers of the court Sirnamed gentle for your fair demean, Here I doe take of you my last farewell, May you stand stifly in your proper places, and execute your offices aright. Farewell you Maidens, with your mother eke, Farewell you courtly Chaplains that be there All good attend you, may you never more Marry your Patrons Ladys wayting-woman, But may you raised be by this my fall May _Lazarillo_ suffer for you all. _Merc._ Sir I was hearkning to you. _Laz._ I will hear nothing, I will break my knife, the Ensign of my former happy state, knock out my teeth, have them hung at a Barbers, and enter into Religion. _Boy._ Why Sir, I think I know whither it is gone. _Laza._ See the rashness of man in his nature, whither? I do unsay all that I have said, go on, go on: Boy, I humble my self and follow thee; Farewell Sir. _Mer._ Not so Sir, you shall take a piece of Beef with me. _Laz._ I cannot stay. _Mer._ By my fay but you shall Sir, in regard of your love to learning, and your [s]kill in the black Art. _Laz._ I do hate learning, and I have no skill in [the] black Art, I would I had. _Mer._ Why your desire is sufficient to me, you shall stay. _Laz._ The most horrible and detested curses that can be imagined, light upon all the professors of that Art; may they be drunk, and when they goe to conjure, and reel in the Circle, may the spirits by them rais'd, tear 'em in pieces, and hang their quarters on old broken walls and Steeple tops. _Mer._ This speech of yours, shews you to have some skill in the Science, wherefore in civilitie, I may not suffer you to depart empty.