Fabian.

Now, as thou lov'st me, let me see this letter.

Clo.

Good Mr. Fabian, grant me another request.

Fab.

Any thing.

Clo.

Do not desire to see this letter.

Fab.

This is to give a dog, and in recompence, desire my dog again.

Duke.

Belong you to the lady Olivia, friends?

Clo.

Ay, Sir, we are some of her trappings.

Duke.

I know thee well; how dost thou, my good fellow?

Clo.

Truly, Sir, the better for my foes, and the worse for my friends.

Duke.

Just the contrary; the better for thy friends.

Clo.

No, Sir, the worse.

Duke.

How can that be?

Clo.

Marry, Sir, they praise me, and make an ass of me; now my foes tell me plainly, I am an ass: so that by my foes, Sir, I profit in the knowledge of myself; and by my friends I am abused: so the conclusion to be asked is, if your four negatives make your two affirmatives; why then the worse for my friends, and the better for my foes.* ^note

Duke.

Why this is excellent.

Clo.

By my troth, Sir, no; tho' it please you to be one of my friends.

Duke.

Thou shalt not be the worse for me; there's gold.

Clo.

But that it would be double-dealing, Sir, I would you could make it another.

Duke.

O, you give me ill counsel.

Clo.

Put your grace in your pocket, Sir, for this once, and let your flesh and blood obey it.

Duke.

Well, I will be so much a sinner, to be a double-dealer: there's another.

Clo.

Primo, secundo, tertio, is a good play, and the old saying is, the third pays for all: the triplex, Sir, is a good tripping measure, as the bells of St. Bennet, Sir, may put you in mind, one, two, three.

Duke.

You can fool no more money out of me, at this throw; if you will let your lady know I am here to speak with her, and bring her along with you, it may awake my bounty further.

Clo.

Marry, Sir, lullaby to your bounty, 'till I come again. I go, Sir; but I would not have you to think, that my desire of having, is the sin of covetousness; but, as you say, Sir, let your bounty take a nap, I will awake it anon.