SCENE II.--_An Apartment in the_ DUKE'S _Palace.

_Enter_ LUSSURIOSO, _with_ HIPPOLITO.

_Lus._ I much applaud Thy judgment; thou art well-read in a fellow; And 'tis the deepest art to study man. I know this, which I never learnt in schools, The world's divided into knaves and fools.

_Hip._ Knave in your face, my lord--behind your back--[_Aside._

_Lus._ And I much thank thee, that thou hast preferred A fellow of discourse, well-mingled, And whose brain time hath seasoned.

_Hip._ True, my lord, We shall find season once, I hope. O villain! To make such an unnatural slave of me--but-- [_Aside._

_Lus._ Mass, here he comes.

_Hip._ And now shall I have free leave to depart. [_Aside._

_Lus._ Your absence, leave us.

_Hip._ Are not my thoughts true? [_Aside._ I must remove; but, brother, you may stay. Heart! we are both made bawds a new-found way! [_Exit._

_Enter_ VENDICE, _disguised._

_Lus._ Now we're an even number, a third man's dangerous, Especially her brother;--say; be free, Have I a pleasure toward--

_Ven._ O my lord!

_Lus._ Ravish me in thine answer; art thou rare? Hast thou beguiled her of salvation, And rubbed hell o'er with honey? Is she a woman?

_Ven._ In all but in desire.

_Lus._ Then she's in nothing--I bate[208] in courage now.

_Ven._ The words I brought Might well have made indifferent honest naught. A right good woman in these days is changed Into white money with less labour far; Many a maid has turned to Mahomet With easier working: I durst undertake, Upon the pawn and forfeit of my life, With half those words to flat a Puritan's wife. But she is close and good; yet 'tis a doubt By this time.--O, the mother, the mother!

_Lus._ I never thought their sex had been a wonder, Until this minute. What fruit from the mother?

_Ven._ How must I blister my soul, be forsworn, Or shame the woman that received me first! I will be true: thou liv'st not to proclaim. Spoke to a dying man, shame has no shame. [_Aside._ My lord.

_Lus._ Who's that?

_Ven._ Here's none but I, my lord.

_Lus._ What would thy haste utter?

_Ven._ Comfort.

_Lus._ Welcome.

_Ven._ The maid being dull, having no mind to travel Into unknown lands, what did I straight, But set spurs to the mother? golden spurs Will put her to a false gallop in a trice.

_Lus._ Is't possible that in this The mother should be damned before the daughter?

_Ven._ O, that's good manners, my lord; the mother for her age must go foremost, you know.

_Lus._ Thou'st spoke that true! but where comes in this comfort?

_Ven._ In a fine place, my lord,--the unnatural mother Did with her tongue so hard beset her honour, That the poor fool was struck to silent wonder; Yet still the maid, like an unlighted taper, Was cold and chaste, save that her mother's breath Did blow fire on her cheeks. The girl departed; But the good ancient madam, half mad, threw me These promising words, which I took deeply note of: "My lord shall be most welcome"--

_Lus._ Faith, I thank her.

_Ven._ "When his pleasure conducts him this way"--

_Lus._ That shall be soon, i' faith.

_Ven._ "I will sway mine own"--

_Lus._ She does the wiser: I commend her for't.

_Ven._ "Women with women can work best alone."

_Lus._ By this light, and so they can; give 'em their due, men are not comparable to 'em.

_Ven._ No, that's true; for you shall have one woman knit more in an hour, than any man can ravel again in seven-and-twenty years.

_Lus._ Now my desires are happy; I'll make 'em freemen now. Thou art a precious fellow; faith, I love thee; Be wise and make it thy revenue; beg, beg; What office couldst thou be ambitious for?

_Ven._ Office, my lord! marry, if I might have my wish, I would have one that was never begged yet.

_Lus._ Nay, then, thou canst have none.

_Ven._ Yes, my lord, I could pick out another office yet; nay, and keep a horse and drab upon't.

_Lus._ Prythee, good bluntness, tell me.

_Ven._ Why, I would desire but this, my lord--to have all the fees behind the arras, and all the farthingales that fall plump about twelve o'clock at night upon the rushes.

_Lus._ Thou'rt a mad, apprehensive knave; dost think to make any great purchase of that?

_Ven._ O, 'tis an unknown thing, my lord; I wonder't has been missed so long.

_Lus._ Well, this night I'll visit her, and 'tis till then A year in my desires--farewell, attend: Trust me with thy preferment.

_Ven._ My loved lord! [_Exit_ LUSSURIOSO. O, shall I kill him o' th' wrong side now? no! Sword, thou wast never a backbiter yet. I'll pierce him to his face; he shall die looking upon me. Thy veins are swelled with lust, this shall unfill 'em. Great men were gods, if beggars could not kill 'em. Forgive me, Heaven, to call my mother wicked! O, lessen not my days upon the earth, I cannot honour her. By this, I fear me, Her tongue has turned my sister unto use. I was a villain not to be forsworn To this our lecherous hope, the duke's son; For lawyers, merchants, some divines, and all, Count beneficial perjury a sin small. It shall go hard yet, but I'll guard her honour, And keep the ports sure. [_Exit._