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Vit. Your envenom'd apothecary should do't.
Were there a second paradise to lose,
This devil would betray it. Vit. O, poor charity,
Thou art seldom found in scarlet !
Her gates were choked with coaches, and her rooms
This whore forsooth was holy !
I'll give their perfect character. They are first,
All that receive it.
Take from all beasts and from all minerals
Their deadly poisonVit. Well, what then ?
Find me but guilty, sever head from body,
At yours, or any man's entreaty, sir.
Make true ones oft suspected.
For know, that all your strict combined heads,
The filth returns in 's face.
Who lodged beneath your roof that fatal night
Your husband brake his neck ?
Enforceth me break silence; I was there.
And take some course for settling her estate,
To you, my lord.
That you would cozen her.
From every generous and noble spirit,
To orphans and to widows.
I'll talk with you hereafter. Do you hear?
Your common post-boys.
Mon. Truly drown'd, indeed.
That beauty and gay clothes, a merry heart,
you can charge me with.
The sport would be more noble. Mon. Very good.
[me first, Vit. But take you your course; it seems you ’ve begg'd
And now would fain undo me. I have houses,
you charitable ! Mon. If the devil
Did ever take good shape, behold his picture !
You will not flatter me.
The twelfth of August.
From prison, I paid use for 't. Mon. I rather think,
'Twas interest for his lust. Vit. Who says so but yourself? if you be my accuser,
Pray cease to be my judge: come from the bench,
I would not care though you proclaim'd them all. Mon. Go to, go to.
After your goodly and vain-glorious banquet,
I'll give you a choke-pear.
From the Vittelli ; 'twas my cousin's fate,
I name the hour, to marry you;
Twelve thousand ducats, and (to my knowledge)
1 Her husband Camillo, who was cousin to Monticelso.