« PreviousContinue »
Your letters carry truth, but 'tis your guise
Servant. My Lord, your gown.
Bra. Thou liest, 'twas my stool. Bestow't upon thy master, that will challenge The rest oʻth' household-stuff, for Brachiano Was ne'er so beggarly to take a stool Out of another's lodging: let him make Vallance for his bed on't, or demy foot-cloth For his most reverend moile. Monticelso, nemo me inpune lacessit.
(Exit Brachiano. Mon. Your champion's gone. Vit. The wolf may prey the better.
Fra. My Lord, there's great suspicion of the murder, But no sound proof who did it. For my part, I do not think she hath a soul so black To act a deed so bloody: if she have, As in cold countries husband-men plant vines, And with warm blood manure them, even so One summer she will bear unsavory fruit, And e'er next spring wither both branch and root. The act of blood let pass, only descend To matter of incontinence.
Vit. I discern poison
Mon. Now the Duke's gone I will produce a letter,
Vit. Grant I was tempted;
Vit. Condemn you me for that the Duke did love me? So may you blame some fair and chrystal river For that some melancholic distracted man Hath drown'd himself in't. Mon. Truly drown'd, indeed.
Vit. Sum up my faults, I pray, and you shall find,
begged me first,
Mon. If the devil
Vit. You have one virtue left,
Fra. Who brought this letter ?
Vit. 'Twas to keep your cousin 70
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, Give in your evidence against me, and let these Be moderators. My Lord Cardinal, Were your intelligencing ears as loving, As to my thoughts, had you an honest tongue, ' I would not care though you proclaim'd them all:
Mon. Go to, go to.
70 Her husband Camillo, who was cousin to Monticelso.
After your goodly and vain-glorious banquet,
Vit. Of your own grafting?
Vit. My Lord!
Mon. Nay hear me,
Vit. A house of converts ! what's that?
Mon. A house of penitent whorés.
Fra. You must have patience.
I fain would know if you have your salvation
Mon. Away with her,
Vit. Yes, you have ravish'd justice;
Vit. Die with those pills in your most cursed maw,
Vit. That the last day of judgment may so find you, And leave you the same Devil you were before! Instruct me some good horse-leach to speak treason, For since you cannot take my life for deeds, Take it for words: 0 woman's poor revenge ! Which dwells but in the tongue. I will not weep, No; I do scorn to call up one poor tear To fawn on your injustice : bear me hence Unto this house of — what's your mitigating title ?
Mon. Of converts.
Vit. It shall not be a house of converts ; My mind shall make it honester to me Than the Pope's palace, and more peaceable Than thy soul, though thou art a Cardinal, Know this, and let it somewhat raise your spight, Through darkness diamonds spread their richest light. 71
Marcello Marcello and Flamineo, Sons to Cornelia, having quarrelled;
71 This White Devil of Italy sets off a bad cause so speciously, and pleads with such an innocence-resembling boldness, that we seem to see that matchless beauty of her face which inspires such gay confidence into her; and are ready to expect, when she has done her pleadings, that her very judges, her accusers, the grave embassadors who sit as spectators, and all the court, will rise and make proffer to defend her in spite of the utmost conviction of her guilt; as the shepherds in Don Quixote make proffer to follow the
Flamineo slays his Brother Marcello, their Mother being present.
Mar. 'Tis an idle rumour.
Cor. Will you dissemble ? sure you do not well
Mar. Publish not a fear,
Mar. I have heard you say, giving my brother suck,
(Flamineo runs Marcello through.)
Fla. Do you turn your gall up ? I'll to sanctuary, And send a surgeon to you.
[Exit Flam. Hortensius (an Officer) enters. Hor. How, o'th' ground?
beautiful shepherdess Marcela “ without reaping any profit out of her manifest resolution made there in their hearing."
So sweet and lovely does she make the shame,