making would be as good a business as shoemaking, or any other handicraft in the country.
Bar. Hold thy unhallowed tongue! These subjects are not for thy rude handling. What is all this grumbling intended for? Tell me what you want, and have done with it; you who pique yourself so much on your plain speaking.
Walt. Well, then, I want you to let the next six sonnets you write go unpraised, and give the money that should have paid for the praising of them, six hundred louis d'ors, as I reckon, to Antonio. Is it not a shame that your own ward and heir, in love with the Lady of this castle, as you very well know, cannot urge his suit with advantage, for want of the equipage and appendages becoming his rank; while this conceited Count, by means of his disinterested mother, drains your purse so freely; and is thereby enabled to ruin the pretensions of him whom you ought to support?
Bar. His pretensions are absurd, and cannot be supported.
Walt. Why absurd? Is he not as brave, as well born, as handsome, too, as his rival?
Bar. What signify all his good qualities? In the presence of his mistress he is an idiot.
Walt. It is true, he loses all possession of himself in that situation, and therefore she despises him, while the gay confidence of the other delights her; but he should be supported and encouraged.
Bar. How encouraged? Silly fellow!
