_Bus_.--Right, sir, thats the questyon, but can a favoryte be so easylie
contented?

_Rich_.--Most easylie, being such a worthy reverend prellatt.

_Bus_.--Foote, man, let him be ten thousand preists[93] and a will styll
wante somethynge. Give hym but tyme and a wadger with thee, _Richard_,
he asks somewhat. See, see, the emperour instructs hym; a good oulde
loveinge soule and he is a good ould love he has chossen. I doe not nowe
blame hys doatinge on my sister.

_Rich_.--No more, no more, tys daungerous jestinge with edge toole[s],
muche more with prynces.

_Bus_.--If prynces have edgtooles I graunte it; but does his grave
majestie looke like a lorde of that mettall? Come, come, be not seveare;
let us prate whylst they whysper.

_Rich_.--Is that good manners?

_Bus_.--Shall not we doe as the kynge does; manners give place to
pollycie and I am suer greate formall outsyds thynke it an aspyringe
pollycie to doe or seeme to doe as the kinge dothe.

_Rich_.--Come, thou art wanton!

_Bus_.--As the Bishopp is costyve in hys begging. Twere a myrackle
should he aske nothynge. Let me see: does no bodye stande in his way to
be removed? (thanks to heaven my father is shrunke allreadye) or does