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He listen'd to me with a merry face: Much shrewd discoursing we have had together.

True, but such shrewd discoursing, as thou call'st it, Should only upon rainy days take place, When idle folk, from field and sport debarr'd, Are glad to while away the weary time With aught to save the kicking of their heels.

Will he not see me, then?

I said not so. He'll see thee presently; but do not teaze him With a long-winded tale, choked up with saws; He is not in the humour for it now, It would, to say the least on't, be a present More prized by him who gives than who receives it.

Go to! I have no need of thee to school me: I know as well as thou dost when to speak, And when to hold my tongue.

Good morrow, Pietro! thou would'st speak with me.

Yes, please your honour, I'm a simple man;—