_Nym._ Art thou grown wise? 30 _Herod._ Doth the duke want no money? _Nym._ Is there a maid found at twenty-four? _Herod._ Speak, thou three-legg'd tripos, is thy ship of fools,[130] afloat yet? _Don._ I ha' many things in my head to tell you. _Herod._ Ay, thy head is always working; it rolls, and it roils, Dondolo, but it gathers no moss, Dondolo. _Don._ Tiberio, the Duke of Ferrara's son, excellently horsed, all upon Flanders mares, is arrived at the court this very day, somewhat late in the night-time. 40 _Herod._ An excellent nuntius. _Don._ Why, my gallants, I have had a good wit. _Herod._ Yes, troth, but now 'tis grown like an almanac for the last year--past date; the mark's out of thy mouth, Dondolo. _Nym._ And what's the prince's ambassage? Thou art private with the duke; thou belongest to his close-stool. _Don._ Why, every fool knows that; I know it myself, man, as well as the best man: he is come to solicit a marriage betwixt his father, the Duke of Ferrara, and our Duke of Urbin's daughter, Dulcimel. 51 _Nym._ Pity of my passions! Nymphadoro shall lose one of his mistresses. _Herod._ Nay, if thou hast more than one, the loss can ne'er be grievous, since 'tis certain he that loves many formally, never loves any violently. _Nym._ Most trusted Frappatore, is my hand the weaker because it is divided into many fingers? No, 'tis the more strongly nimble. I do now love threescore and nine ladies, all of them most extremely well, but I do love the princess most extremely best; but, in very sighing sadness, I ha' lost all hope, and with that hope a lady that is most rare, most fair, most wise, most sweet, most---- 64 _Herod._ Anything; true, but remember, still this fair, this wise, this sweet, this all-of-excellency, has in the tail of all--a woman. _Nym._ Peace! the presence fills against the prince approacheth. Mark who enters. _Herc._ My brother, Sir Amoroso Debile-Dosso. 70 _Nym._ Not he. _Herc._ No, not he? _Nym._ How, is he changed? _Herc._ Why, grown the very dregs of the drabs' cup. _Nym._ O Babylon, thy walls are fallen! Is he married? _Herc._ Yes; yet still the ladies' common--or the common ladies'--servant. _Nym._ How does his own lady bear with him? _Herc._ Faith, like the Roman Milo, bore with him when he was a calf, and now carries him when he's grown an ox. 81 _Nym._ Peace! the duke's at hand. _Cornets._ _Enter_ GONZAGO, GRANUFFO, DULCIMEL, PHILOCALIA, ZOYA.