[125] "Ercole, Duke of Ferrara, is thus noticed in Thomas's 'Historye of Italye,' ed. 1561, fol. 212:--'He is a goodly man of personage, hyghe of stature, strong and well proporcyonate in all his members, bald on the crowne of the head, and amiable enough of countenance. He hath a good witte, and is somewhat learned, and indifferent in the administracyon of justice. And one thyng special I remember of him, worthy to be recited. The emperour, at his being in Italy, borowed money of all handes, and demaundyng amongst the rest a hundred thousand crownes in lone of this duke, he brought him a bagge of fifty thousand crownes, excusyng himself that to lend a hundred thousand crownes he was not hable, but to geve his majestee those fifty thousand he could be contented with all his hert; and, by this shift, kept the other fifty thousand crownes in hys purse. Finally of the religion he is no more earnest than most prynces are, and in his life he foloweth the court of love, to lose no time of pleasure. He is frendly to faire women, and cherisheth change. By his fathers daies, he maried Madame Renea, daughter unto Lewys the xii. French kinge.' The names of his two sons, here given, are Alfonso and Luigi."--_Halliwell._ [126] Eds. 1. and 3. "how _his_ cooler." [127] Eds. 1. and 3. "lugg'd." [128] Eds. 1. and 3. "of." SCENE II. _Palace of the Duke of Urbin._ _Enter_ NYMPHADORO, HEROD, _and_ Page. _Herod._ How now, my little more than nothing, what news is stirring? _Page._ All the city's a-fire! _Nym._ On fire? _Page._ With joy of the Princess Dulcimel's birthday: there's show upon show; sport upon sport. _Herod._ What sport? what sport? _Page._ Marry, sir, to solemnise the princess' birthday. There's first, crackers, which run into the air, and when they are at the top, like some ambitious strange heretic, keep a cracking and a cracking, and then break, and down they come. 12 _Herod._ A pretty crab; he would yield tart juice and he were squeez'd. _Nym._ What sport else? _Page._ Other fireworks. _Herod._ Spirit of wine, I cannot tell how these fireworks should be good at the solemnising the birth of men or women. I am sure they are dangerous at their begetting. What, more fireworks, sir? 20 _Page._ There be squibs, sir; which squibs, running upon lines,[129] like some of our gaudy gallants, sir, keep a smother, sir, with flishing and flashing, and, in the end, sir, they do, sir---- _Nym._ What, sir? _Page._ Stink, sir. _Herod._ 'Fore Heaven, a most sweet youth! _Enter_ DONDOLO. _Don._ News! news! news! news! _Herod._ What, in the name of prophecy?