PEPE. We'll change our titles when your bride's bells ring-- Ha, cousin?
LANCIOTTO. Even this poor fool has eyes, To see the wretched plight in which I stand. [_Aside._] How, gossip, how?
PEPE. I, being the court-fool, Am lord of fools by my prerogative.
PEPE. Rimini! A frightful liar; but true for once, I fear. The messenger from Guido has returned, And the whole town is wailing over him. Some pity you, and some the bride; but I, Being more catholic, I pity both.
LANCIOTTO. Still, pity, pity! [_Aside. Bells toll._] Ha! whose knell is that?
PEPE. Lord Malatesta sent me to the tower, To have the bells rung for your marriage-news. How, he said not; so I, as I thought fit, Told the deaf sexton to ring out a knell. [_Bells toll._] How do you like it?
LANCIOTTO. Varlet, have you bones, To risk their breaking? I have half a mind To thresh you from your motley coat! [_Seizes him._
PEPE. Pardee! Respect my coxcomb, cousin. Hark! ha, ha! [_Laughing._] [_Bells ring a joyful peal._] Some one has changed my music. Heaven defend! How the bells jangle. Yonder graybeard, now, Rings a peal vilely. He's more used to knells, And sounds them grandly. Only give him time, And, I'll be sworn, he'll ring your knell out yet.
LANCIOTTO. Pepe, you are but half a fool.
PEPE. My lord, I can return the compliment in full.
LANCIOTTO. I shook you rudely; here's a florin. [_Offers money._
PEPE. No: My wit is merchandise, but not my honour.
PEPE. Why not? You great lords Have something you call lordly honour; pray, May not a fool have foolish honour, too? Cousin, you laid your hand upon my coat-- 'Twas the first sacrilege it ever knew--And you shall pay it. Mark! I promise you.
LANCIOTTO. [_Laughing._] Ha, ha! you bluster well. Upon my life, You have the tilt-yard jargon to a breath. Pepe, if I should smite you on the cheek-- Thus, gossip, thus--[_Strikes him._] what would you then demand?
LANCIOTTO. [_Laughing._] Ha, ha! there is the camp-style, too, A very cut-throat air! How this shrewd fool Makes the punctilio of honour show! Change helmets into coxcombs, swords to baubles, And what a figure is poor chivalry! Thanks for your lesson, Pepe. [_Exit._
PEPE. Ere I'm done, You'll curse as heartily, you limping beast! Ha! so we go--Lord Lanciotto, look! [_Walks about, mimicking him._] Here is a leg and camel-back, forsooth, To match your honour and nobility! You miscreated scarecrow, dare you shake, Or strike in jest, a natural man like me?-- You curséd lump, you chaos of a man, To buffet one whom Heaven pronounces good! [_Bells ring._] There go the bells rejoicing over you: I'll change them back to the old knell again. You marry, faugh! Beget a race of elves; Wed a she-crocodile, and keep within The limits of your nature! Here we go, Tripping along to meet our promised bride, Like a rheumatic elephant!--ha, ha! [_Laughing._