weights they press men to death with. O horrible salary!
Eng. Am. Fie, fie, Flamineo! [Exeunt Ambassadors.
Flam. Bells ne'er ring well, till they are at their full pitch; and I hope yon cardinal shall never have the grace to pray well till he come to the scaffold. If they were racked now to know the confederacy—but your noblemen are privileged from the rack; and well may, for a little thing would pull some of them a-pieces afore they came to their arraignment. Religion, O, how it is commedled[57] with policy! The first bloodshed in the world happened about religion. Would I were a Jew!
Mar. O, there are too many.
Flam. You are deceived: there are not Jews enough, priests enough, nor gentlemen enough.
Mar. How?
Flam. I'll prove it; for if there were Jews enough, so many Christians would not turn usurers; if priests enough, one should not have six benefices; and if gentlemen enough, so many early mushrooms, whose best growth sprang from a dunghill, should not aspire to gentility. Farewell: let others live by begging; be thou one of them practise the art of Wolner[58] in England, to swallow all's given thee; and yet let one purgation make thee as hungry again as fellows that work in a saw-pit. I'll go hear the screech-owl. [Exit.
Lod. [Aside]. This was Brachiano's pander and 'tis strange That, in such open and apparent guilt Of his adulterous sister, he dare utter So scandalous a passion. I must wind him.
Re-enter Flamineo.
Flam. [Aside]. How dares this banished count return to Rome, His pardon not yet purchased! I have heard The deceased duchess gave him pension, And that he came along from Padua I' the train of the young prince. There's somewhat in't: Physicians, that cure poisons, still do work With counter-poisons. Mar. Mark this strange encounter. Flam. The god of melancholy turn thy gall to poison, And let the stigmatic[59] wrinkles in thy face, Like to the boisterous waves in a rough tide, One still overtake another. Lod. I do thank thee, And I do wish ingeniously[60] for thy sake The dog-days all year long. Flam. How croaks the raven? Is our good duchess dead? Lod. Dead. Flam. O fate! Misfortune comes, like the coroner's business, Huddle upon huddle. Lod. Shalt thou and I join house-keeping? Flam. Yes, content: Let's be unsociably sociable. Lod. Sit some three days together, and discourse. Flam. Only with making faces: lie in our clothes. Lod. With faggots for our pillows. Flam. And be lousy. Lod. In taffata linings; that's genteel melancholy: Sleep all day. Flam. Yes; and, like your melancholic hare, Feed after midnight.— We are observed: see how yon couple grieve! Lod. What a strange creature is a laughing fool! As if man were created to no use But only to show his teeth. Flam. I'll tell thee what— It would do well, instead of looking-glasses, To set one's face each morning by a saucer Of a witch's congealèd blood. Lod. Precious gue![61] We'll never part. Flam. Never, till the beggary of courtiers, The discontent of churchmen, want of soldiers, And all the creatures that hang manacled, Worse than strappadoed, on the lowest felly Of Fortune's wheel, be taught, in our two lives, To scorn that world which life of means deprives.
Enter Antonelli and Gasparo.
Anto. My lord, I bring good news. The Pope, on's death-bed, At the earnest suit of the Great Duke of Florence, Hath signed your pardon, and restored unto you— Lod. I thank you for your news.—Look up again, Flamineo; see my pardon. Flam. Why do you laugh? There was no such condition in our covenant. Lod. Why! Flam. You shall not seem a happier man than I: You know our vow, sir; if you will be merry, Do it i' the like posture as if some great man Sate while his enemy were executed; Though it be very lechery unto thee, Do't with a crabbèd politician's face. Lod. Your sister is a damnable whore. Flam. Ha! Lod. Look you, I spake that laughing. Flam. Dost ever think to speak again? Lod. Do you hear? Wilt sell me forty ounces of her blood To water a mandrake? Flam. Poor lord, you did vow To live a lousy creature. Lod. Yes. Flam. Like one That had for ever forfeited the daylight By being in debt. Lod. Ha, ha! Flam. I do not greatly wonder you do break; Your lordship learned't long since. But I'll tell you— Lod. What? Flam. And't shall stick by you— Lod. I long for it. Flam. This laughter scurvily becomes your face: If you will not be melancholy, be angry. [Strikes him. See, now I laugh too. Mar. You are to blame: I'll force you hence. Lod. Unhand me. [Exeunt Marcello and Flamineo. That e'er I should be forced to right myself Upon a pander! Anto. My lord— Lod. H'ad been as good met with his fist a thunderbolt. Gas. How this shows! Lod. Ud's death,[62] how did my sword miss him? These rogues that are most weary of their lives Still scape the greatest dangers. A pox upon him! all his reputation, Nay, all the goodness of his family, Is not worth half this earthquake: I learned it of no fencer to shake thus: Come, I'll forget him, and go drink some wine. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.—An Apartment in the Palace of Francisco.
Enter Francisco de Medicis and Monticelso.
Mont. Come, come, my lord, untie your folded thoughts, And let them dangle loose as a bride's hair.[63] Your sister's poisoned. Fran. de Med. Far be it from my thoughts To seek revenge. Mont. What, are you turned all marble? Fran. de Med. Shall I defy him, and impose a war Most burdensome on my poor subjects' necks, Which at my will I have not power to end? You know, for all the murders, rapes, and thefts, Committed in the horrid lust of war, He that unjustly caused it first proceed Shall find it in his grave and in his seed. Mont. That's not the course I'd wish you; pray, observe me. We see that undermining more prevails Than doth the cannon. Bear your wrongs concealed, And, patient as the tortoise, let this camel Stalk, o'er your back unbruised: sleep with the lion, And let this brood of secure foolish mice Play with your nostrils, till the time be ripe For the bloody audit and the fatal gripe: Aim like a cunning fowler, close one eye, That you the better may your game espy. Fran. de Med. Free me, my innocence, from treacherous acts! I know there's thunder yonder; and I'll stand Like a safe valley, which low bends the knee To some aspiring mountain; since I know Treason, like spiders weaving nets for flies, By her foul work is found, and in it dies. To pass away these thoughts, my honoured lord, It is reported you possess a book, Wherein you have quoted,[64] by intelligence, The names of all notorious offenders Lurking about the city. Mont. Sir, I do; And some there are which call it my black book: Well may the title hold; for though it teach not The art of conjuring, yet in it lurk The names of many devils. Fran. de Med. Pray, let's see it. Mont. I'll fetch it to your lordship. [Exit. Fran. de Med. Monticelso, I will not trust thee; but in all my plots I'll rest as jealous as a town besieged. Thou canst not reach what I intend to act: Your flax soon kindles, soon is out again; But gold slow heats, and long will hot remain.
Re-enter Monticelso, presents Francisco de Medicis with a book.
Mont. 'Tis here, my lord.
Fran. de Med. First, your intelligencers, pray, let's see.
Mont. Their number rises strangely; and some of them You'd take for honest men. Next are panders— These are your pirates; and these following leaves For base rogues that undo young gentlemen By taking up commodities;[65] for politic bankrupts; For fellows that are bawds to their own wives, Only to put off horses, and slight jewels, Clocks, defaced plate, and such commodities, At birth of their first children. Fran. de Med. Are there such? Mont. These are for impudent bawds That go in men's apparel; for usurers That share with
