SCENE I.--_A Street in Rome.

_Enter_ Count LODOVICO, ANTONELLI, _and_ GASPARO.

_Lod._ Banished!

_Ant._ It grieved me much to hear the sentence.

_Lod._ Ha, ha! O Democritus, thy gods That govern the whole world! courtly reward And punishment. Fortune's a right whore: If she give aught, she deals it in small parcels, That she may take away all at one swoop. This 'tis to have great enemies:--God quit[12] them! Your wolf no longer seems to be a wolf Than when she's hungry.

_Gasp._ You term those enemies Are men of princely rank.

_Lod._ O, I pray for them: The violent thunder is adored by those Are pashed[13] in pieces by it.

_Ant._ Come, my lord, You are justly doomed: look but a little back Into your former life; you have in three years Ruined the noblest earldom.

_Gasp._ Your followers Have swallowed you like mummia[14] and, being sick With such unnatural and horrid physic, Vomit you up i' the kennel.

_Ant._ All the damnable degrees Of drinkings have you staggered through: one citizen Is lord of two fair manors called you master Only for caviare.

_Gasp._ Those noblemen Which were invited to your prodigal feasts (Wherein the phœnix scarce could scape your throats) Laugh at your misery; as fore-deeming you An idle meteor, which, drawn forth the earth, Would be soon lost i' the air.

_Ant._ Jest upon you, And say you were begotten in an earthquake, You have ruined such fair lordships.

_Lod._ Very good. This well goes with two buckets: I must tend The pouring out of either.

_Gasp._ Worse than these; You have acted certain murders here in Rome, Bloody and full of horror.

_Lod._ 'Las, they were flea-bitings. Why took they not my head, then?

_Gasp._ O, my lord, The law doth sometimes mediate, thinks it good Not ever to steep violent sins in blood: This gentle penance may both end your crimes, And in the example better these bad times.

_Lod._ So; but I wonder, then, some great men scape This banishment: there's Paulo Giordano Ursini, The Duke of Brachiano, now lives in Rome, And by close panderism seeks to prostitute The honour of Vittoria Corombona; Vittoria, she that might have got my pardon For one kiss to the duke.

_Ant._ Have a full man within you. We see that trees bear no such pleasant fruit There where they grew first as where they are new set: Perfumes, the more they are chafed, the more they render Their pleasing scents; and so affliction Expresseth virtue fully, whether true Or else adulterate.

_Lod._ Leave your painted comforts: I'll make Italian cut-works[15] in their guts, If ever I return.

_Gasp._ O, sir!

_Lod._ I am patient. I have seen some ready to be executed Give pleasant looks and money, and grown familiar With the knave hangman: so do I: I thank them, And would account them nobly merciful, Would they despatch me quickly.

_Ant._ Fare you well: We shall find time, I doubt not, to repeal Your banishment.

_Lod._ I am ever bound to you: This is the world's alms; pray, make use of it. Great men sell sheep thus to be cut in pieces, When first they have shorn them bare and sold their fleeces. [_Exeunt_.