Fern.

Col.

Where is she?

Ros. Here, have a plum for ie’ee—

In her chamber.

Col. Come, fool, I'll give thee plums enow; come, fool. Fern. Let slaves in mind be servile to their fears;

Our heart is high instarred in brighter spheres.

[Exeunt FERNANDO and COLONA.

Ros. I see him lost already.

If all prevail not, we shall know too late
No toil can shun the violence of fate.

SCENE I.-The Palace. The Duchess's Bedchamber. BIANCA discovered in her night-attire, leaning on a cushion at a table, holding FERNANDO by the hand. above FIORMONDA.

Enter

IOR. [Aside] Now fly, Revenge, and wound the lower earth,

That I, insphered above, may cross the race

Of love despised, and triumph o'er their graves

Who scorn the low-bent thraldom of my heart!

Bian. Why shouldst thou not be mine? why should

The iron laws of ceremony, bar

Mutual embraces? what's a vow? a vow?

Can there be sin in unity? could I

As well dispense with conscience as renounce
The outside of my titles, the poor style
Of duchess, I had rather change my life

With any waiting-woman in the land

[the laws,

To purchase one night's rest with thee, Fernando,

Than be Caraffa's spouse a thousand years.

Fior. [Aside] Treason to wedlock! this would make

as before,

This is the largest lacuna in Ford's works. Several lines appear to have fallen out.

what I am,

To survive you, or I will see you first
Or widowed or buried: if the last,
By all the comfort I can wish to taste,
By your fair eyes, that sepulchre that holds
Your coffin shall incoffin me alive;

I sign it with this seal.

Fior. [Aside]

[Kisses her.

Ignoble strumpet!

Bian. You shall not swear; take off that oath again, Or thus I will enforce it.

Fern.

Use that force,

And make me perjurèd; for whiles your lips
Are made the book, it is a sport to swear,

And glory to forswear.

Fior. [Aside]

[Kisses him.

Here's fast and loose!

Which, for a ducat, now the game's on foot?

Whilst they are kissing, the Duke and D'AVOLOS, with their swords drawn, appear at the door, followed by PETRUCHIO, NIBRASSA, and a Guard.

Col. [Within] Help, help! madam, you are betrayed, madam; help, help!

D'Av. [Aside to Duke] Is there confidence in credit, now, sir? belief in your own eyes? do you see? do you see, sir? can you behold it without lightning?

Col. [Within] Help, madam, help!

Fern. What noise is that? I heard one cry.
Duke [Comes forward]

Know you who I am?

Ha, did you?

Fern.
Yes; thou'rt Pavy's duke,
Dressed like a hangman: see, I am unarmed,
Yet do not fear thee; though the coward doubt
Of what I could have done hath made thee stea
The advantage of this time, yet, duke, I dare
Thy worst, for murder sits upon thy cheeks:
To't, man!

Duke. I am too angry in my rage

To scourge thee unprovided.-Take him hence;

Fern. Duke, do not shame thy manhood to lay hands On that most innocent lady.

Duke.

Confine him to his chamber.

Yet again!—

[Exeunt D'AVOLOS and the Guard with FERNANDO.

Leave us all ;

None stay, not one; shut up the doors.

[Exeunt PETRUCHIO and NIBRASSA. Fior. Now show thyself my brother, brave Caraffa. Duke. Woman, stand forth before me ;-wretched What canst thou hope for?

[whore,

Bian.
Death; I wish no less.
You told me you had dreamt; and, gentle duke,
Unless you be mistook, you're now awaked.

Duke. Strumpet, I am ; and in my hand hold up

The edge that must uncut thy twist of life:

Dost thou not shake?

Bian.

For what? to see a weak,

Faint, trembling arm advance a leaden blade?
Alas, good man! put up, put up; thine eyes
Are likelier much to weep than arms to strike:
What would you do now, pray?

Duke.

What! shameless harlot !

Rip up the cradle of thy cursèd womb,

In which the mixture of that traitor's lust

Imposthumes for a birth of bastardy..

Yet come, and if thou think'st thou canst deserve
One mite of mercy, ere the boundless spleen
Of just-consuming wrath o'erswell my reason,
Tell me, bad woman, tell me what could move
Thy heart to crave variety of youth.

Bian. I'll tell ye, if you needs would be resolved ;
I held Fernando much the properer man.

Duke. Shameless, intolerable whore !

Bian.

What ails you?

Can you imagine, sir, the name of duke
Could make a crookèd leg, a scambling' foot,
A tolerable face, a wearish2 hand,

A bloodless lip, or such an untrimmed beard
As yours, fit for a lady's pleasure? no:

I wonder you could think 'twere possible,
When I had once but looked on your Fernando,
I ever could love you again; fie, fie!

Now, by my life, I thought that long ago

Y' had known it, and been glad you had a friend
Your wife did think so well of.

Duke.

O my stars! Here's impudence above all history.

Why, thou detested reprobate in virtue,

Dar'st thou, without a blush, before mine eyes
Speak such immodest language?

Bian.

Dare! yes, 'faith,

You see I dare: I know what you would say now;
You would fain tell me how exceeding much
I am beholding to you, that vouchsafed
Me, from a simple gentlewoman's place,
The honour of your bed: 'tis true, you did;
But why? 'twas but because you thought I had
A spark of beauty more than you had seen.
To answer this, my reason is the like;
The self-same appetite which led you on
To marry me led me to love your friend :
O, he's a gallant man! if ever yet
Mine eyes beheld a miracle composed
Of flesh and blood, Fernando has my voice.
I must confess, my lord, that for a prince
Handsome enough you are, and—and no more;
But to compare yourself with him! trust me,
You are too much in fault. Shall I advise you ?
2 Withered.

1 Sprawling.

1