Enter Andrugio
ANDRUGIO
Now, Fortune, show thyself the friend of love.
Make her way plain and safe; cast all their eyes
That guard the castle
Into a thicker blindness than thine own,
Darker than ignorance or idolatry,
That in that shape my love may pass unknown,
And by her freedom set my comforts free.
This is the place appointed for our meeting.
Yet comes she not. I am coveteous of her sight.
That Gypsy habit alters her so far
From knowledge that our purpose cannot err.
She might have been here now by this time, largely,
And much to spare. I would not miss her now
In this plight for the loss of a year’s joy.
She’s ignorant of this house, nor knows she where
Or which way to bestow herself, through fear.
Enter Lactantio, with a guard
LACTANTIO
Close with him, gentlemen. — In the Duchess’ name
We do attach your body.
ANDRUGIO
How, my body!
What means this rudeness?
LACTANTIO
You add to your offences
Calling that rudeness that is fair command,
Immaculate justice, and the Duchess’ pleasure.
ANDRUGIO
Signor Lactantio! O, are you the speaker?
LACTANTIO
I am what I am made.
ANDRUGIO
Show me my crime.
LACTANTIO
I fear you’ll have too many shown you, sir.
ANDRUGIO
The father of untruths possess thy spirit,
As he commands thy tongue. [Aside] I defy fear,
But in my love; it only settles there.
LACTANTIO
Bring him along.
ANDRUGIO
Let law’s severest brow
Bend at my deeds, my innocence shall rise
A shame to thee and all my enemies.
LACTANTIO
You’re much the happier man.
ANDRUGIO
[aside] O my hard crosses! —
Grant me the third part of one hour’s stay.
LACTANTIO
Sir, not a minute.
ANDRUGIO
[aside] O, she’s lost!
LACTANTIO
Away. Exeunt
Enter Aurelia, like a Gypsy
AURELIA
I’m happily escaped. Not one pursues me;
This shape’s too cunning for ‘em. All the sport was
The porter would needs know his fortune of me
As I passed by him. ’Twas such a plunge to me,
I knew not how to bear myself. At last
I did resolve of somewhat: looked in’s hand,
Then shook my head, bade him make much on’s eyes,
He would lose his sight clean, long before he dies.
And so away went I; he lost the sight of me quickly.
I told him his fortune truer for nothing than some of my complexion that would have cozened him of his money.
This is the place of meeting. Where’s this man now
That has took all this care and pains for nothing?
The use of him is at the last cast now.
Shall only bring me to my former face again,
And see me somewhat cleanlier, at his cost,
And then farewell Andrugio. When I am handsome
I’m for another straight. I wonder, troth,
That he would miss me thus. I could have took
Many occasions besides this to have left him.
I’m not in want; he need not give me any.
A woman’s will has still enough to spare
To help her friends, an need be. What, not yet?
What will become of me in this shape then?
If I know where to go I’m no dissembler;
And I’ll not lose my part in woman so,
For such a trifle to forswear myself.
But comes he not indeed?
Enter Dondolo
DONDOLO
O exc’llent! By this light, here’s one of them.
I thank my stars. I learnt that phrase in the Half Moon
Tavern. — By your leave, good Gypsy, I pray how far off is your company?
AURELIA
[aside]
O happiness! This is the merry fellow
My love Signor Lactantio takes delight in.
I’ll send him away speedily with the news
Of my so strange and fortunate escape,
And he’ll provide my safety at an instant. —
My friend, thou serv’st Signor Lactantio.
DONDOLO
Who, I serve? Gypsy, I scorn your motion. An if the rest of your company give me no better words,
I will hinder ‘em the stealing of more pullen than fifty poulterers were ever worth, and prove a heavier enemy to all their pig booties; they shall travel like Jews, that hate swine’s flesh, and never get a sow by th’ ear all their lifetime. I serve Lactantio? I scorn to serve anybody, I am more Gypsy-minded than so. Though my face look of a Christian colour, if my belly were ripped up you shall find my heart as black as any patch about you. The truth is, I am as arrant a thief as the proudest of your company, I’ll except none. I am run away from my master in the state of a fool, and till I be a perfect knave I never mean to return again.
AURELIA
[aside]
I’m ne’er the happier for this fortune now.
It did but mock me.
DONDOLO
Here they come! Here they come!
Enter a company of Gypsies, men and women, with booties of hens and ducks, etc., singing.
Music; song
CAPTAIN
Come, my dainty doxies,
My dells, my dells most dear.
We have neither house nor land,
Yet never want good cheer.
ALL GYPSIES
We never want good cheer.
CAPTAIN
We take no care for candle-rents.
SECOND GYPSY
We lie.
THIRD GYPSY
We snort.
CAPTAIN
We sport in tents;
Then rouse betimes, and steal our dinners.
Our store is never taken
Without pigs, hens, or bacon,
And that’s good meat for sinners.
At wakes and fairs we cozen
Poor country folks by dozen.
If one have money, he disburses;
Whilst some tell fortunes, some pick purses.
Rather than be out of use,
We’ll steal garters, hose, or shoes,
Boots, or spurs with jingling rowels,
Shirts or napkins, smocks or towels.
Come live with us, come live with us,
All you that love your eases.
He that’s a Gypsy
May be drunk or tipsy
At what hour he pleases.
ALL GYPSIES
We laugh, we quaff, we roar, we scuffle,
We cheat, we drab, we filch, we shuffle.
DONDOLO
O sweet!
They deserve to be hanged for ravishing of me.
AURELIA
[aside]
What will become of me if I seem fearful now,
Or offer sudden flight? Then I betray myself.
I must do neither.
CAPTAIN
Ousabel, camcheateroon,
Pusscatelion, house-drows.
SECOND GYPSY
Rumbas stragadelion
Alla piss-kitch in sows-clows.
O, O!
DONDOLO
Piss-kitch in house-clout! I shall ne’er keep a good tongue in my head till I get this language.
CAPTAIN
Umbra fill kevolliden, magro-pye.
DONDOLO
He calls her maggot o’ pie.
AURELIA
I love your language well, but understand it not.
CAPTAIN
Ha!
AURELIA
I am but lately turned to your profession,
Yet from my youth I ever loved it dearly,
But never could attain to’t. Steal I can;
It was a thing I ever was brought up to.
My father was a miller, and my mother
A tailor’s widow.
DONDOLO
She’s a thief on both sides.
CAPTAIN
[to Aurelia]
Give me thy hand. Thou art no bastard born;
We have not a more true-bred thief amongst us.
ALL GYPSIES Not any, captain.
DONDOLO
I pray take me into some grace amongst you too, for though I claim no goodness from my parents to help me forward into your society, I had two uncles that were both hanged for robberies, if that will serve your turn, and a brave cut-purse to my cousin-german.
If kindred will be taken, I am as near a kin to a thief as any of you that had fathers and mothers.
CAPTAIN
What is it thou requirest, noble cousin?
DONDOLO
Cousin! Nay, an we be so near a kin already now we are sober, we shall be sworn brothers when we are drunk. The naked truth is, sir, I would be made a Gypsy as fast as you could devise.
CAPTAIN
A Gypsy!
DONDOLO
Ay, with all the speed you can, sir. The very sight of those stol’n hens eggs me forward horribly.
CAPTAIN
Here’s dainty ducks, too, boy.
DONDOLO
I see ‘em but too well. I would they were all rotten-roasted, and stuffed with onions.
CAPTAIN
Lov’st thou the common food of Egypt, onions?
DONDOLO
Ay, and garlic too. I have smelt out many a knave by’t; but I could never smell mine own breath yet, and that’s many a man’s fault — he can smell out a knave in another sometimes three yards off, yet, his nose standing so nigh his mouth, he can never smell out himself.
CAPTAIN
A pregnant Gypsy.
ALL GYPSIES
A most witty sinner.
CAPTAIN
Stretch forth thy hand, coz. Art thou fortunate?
DONDOLO
How, fortunate? Nay, I cannot tell that myself.
Wherefore do I come to you but to learn that? I have sometimes found money in old shoes, but if I had not stol’n more than I have found, I had had but a scurvy thin-cheeked fortune on’t.
CAPTAIN
[studying Dondolo’s palm] Here’s a fair table.
DONDOLO
Ay, so has many a man that has given over housekeeping: a fair table when there’s neither cloth nor meat upon’t.
CAPTAIN
What a brave line of life’s here, look you, Gypsies.
DONDOLO
I have known as brave a line end in a halter.
CAPTAIN
[stealing Dondolo’s money]
But thou art born to precious fortune.
DONDOLO
The devil I am!
CAPTAIN
Bette, Bucketto.
DONDOLO
How, to beat bucks?
CAPTAIN
Stealee Bacono.
DONDOLO
O, to steal bacon, that’s the better fortune o’th’ two indeed.
CAPTAIN
Thou wilt be shortly Captain of the Gypsies.
DONDOLO
I would you’d make me corporal i’th’ mean time,
Or standard-bearer to the women’s regiment.
CAPTAIN
Much may be done for love.
DONDOLO
Nay, here’s some money.
I know an office comes not all for love. —
A pox of your lime-twigs, you have’t all already.
CAPTAIN
It lies but here in cache for thine own use, boy.
DONDOLO
Nay, an’t lie there once I shall hardly come to the fing’ring on’t in haste. Yet make me an apt scholar, and I care not. Teach me but so much Gypsy to steal as much more from another, and the devil do you good of that.
CAPTAIN
Thou shalt have all thy heart requires.
First, here’s a girl for thy desires.
[He presents Aurelia to Dondolo]
This doxy fresh, this new-come dell,
Shall lie by thy sweet side and swell.
Get me Gypsies brave and tawny,
With cheek full plump and hip full brawny.
Look you prove industrious dealers
To serve the commonwealth with stealers,
That th’unhoused race of fortune-tellers
May never fail to cheat town-dwellers,
Or to our universal grief
Leave country fairs without a thief.
This is all you have to do,
Save ev’ry hour a filch or two,
Be it money, cloth or pullen.
When the ev’ning’s brow looks sullen,
Lose no time, for then ’tis precious.
Let your sleights be fine, facetious;
Which hoping you’ll observe, to try thee,
With rusty bacon thus! Gypsify thee.
[He marks Dondolo’s face with rusty bacon]
DONDOLO
Do you use to do’t with bacon?
CAPTAIN
Evermore.
DONDOLO
By this light, the rats will take me now for some hog’s cheek, and eat up my face when I am asleep. I shall have ne’er a bit left by tomorrow morning; and lying open mouthed, as I use to do, I shall look for all the world like a mousetrap baited with bacon.
CAPTAIN
Why, here’s a face like thine, so done,
Only grained in by the sun, and this, and these.
DONDOLO
Faith, then there’s a company of bacon-faces of you, and I am one now to make up the number. We are a kind of conscionable people, and ‘twere well thought upon for to steal bacon and black our faces with’t: ’tis like one that commits sin, and writes his faults in his forehead.
CAPTAIN
Wit, whither wilt thou?
DONDOLO
Marry, to the next pocket I can come at, and if it be a gentleman’s I wish a whole quarter’s rent in’t.
Is this my ‘in dock, out nettle’? What’s Gypsy for her?
CAPTAIN
Your doxy she.
DONDOLO
O, right. Are you my doxy, sirrah?
AURELIA
I’ll be thy doxy and thy dell.
With thee I’ll live, for thee I’ll steal.
From fair to fair, from wake to wake,
I’ll ramble still for thy sweet sake.
DONDOLO
O dainty fine doxy! She speaks the language as familiarly already as if she’d been begot of a canter. I pray, captain, what’s Gypsy for the hind quarter of a woman?
CAPTAIN
Nosario.
DONDOLO
Nosario. Why, what’s Gypsy for my nose then?
CAPTAIN
Why, arsinio.
DONDOLO
Arsinio? Faith, methinks you might have devised a sweeter word for’t.
Enter Father and Governor
CAPTAIN
Stop, stop; fresh booties, gentlefolks,
Signoros, cavallario, folkadelio.
SECOND GYPSY
Lagnambrol a tumbrel.
DONDOLO
How? Give me one word amongst you, that I may be doing too.
AURELIA
[aside]
Yonder they are again. O guiltiness,
Thou putt’st more trembling fear into a maid
Than the first wedding night. Take courage, wench;
Thy face cannot betray thee with a blush now.
FATHER
[to the Governor]
Which way she took her flight, sir, none can guess,
Or how she scaped.
GOVERNOR
Out at some window, certainly.
FATHER
O, ’tis a bold daring baggage!
GOVERNOR
See, good fortune, sir,
The Gypsies; they’re the cunning’st people living.
FATHER
They cunning? what a confidence have you, sir!
No wise man’s faith was ever set in fortunes.
GOVERNOR
You are the wilful’st man against all learning still.
I will be hanged now if I hear not news
Of her amongst this company.
FATHER
You are a gentleman of the flatt’ring’st hopes
That e’er lost woman yet.
GOVERNOR
[to Aurelia] Come hither, Gypsy.
AURELIA
[aside]
Luck now, or I’m undone. — What says my master?
Bless me with a silver cross,
And I will tell you all your loss.
GOVERNOR
Lo you there, sir: ‘all my loss’, at first word too.
There is no cunning in these Gypsies now?
FATHER
Sure I’ll hear more of this.
GOVERNOR
[to Aurelia] Here’s silver for you.
AURELIA
Now attend your fortune’s story.
You loved a maid.
GOVERNOR
Right.
AURELIA
She never loved you.
You shall find my words are true.
GOVERNOR
Mass, I am afraid so.
AURELIA
You were about
To keep her in, but could not do’t.
Alas the while, she would not stay.
The cough o’th’ lungs blew her away.
And, which is worse, you’ll be so crossed
You’ll never find the thing that’s lost.
Yet oftentimes your sight will fear her;
She’ll be near you, and yet you ne’er the nearer.
Let her go, and be the gladder;
She’d but shame you, if you had her.
Ten counsellors could never school her.
She’s so wild, you could not rule her.
GOVERNOR
In troth I am of thy mind, yet I’d fain find her.
AURELIA
Soonest then, when you least mind her;
But if you mean to take her tripping,
Make but haste; she’s now a-shipping.
GOVERNOR
I ever dreamed so much.
FATHER
Hie to the quay!
We’ll mar your voyage; you shall brook no sea.
Exeunt Father and Governor
CAPTAIN
Cheateroon, high gulleroon.
DONDOLO
Filcheroon, purse-fulleroon.
I can say somewhat too.
ALL GYPSIES
Excellent Gypsy, witty rare doxy.
DONDOLO
I would not change my dell for a dozen of black bell-wethers.
CAPTAIN
Our wealth swells high, my boys.
DONDOLO
Our wealth swells high, my boys.
CAPTAIN
Let every Gypsy
Dance with his doxy,
And then drink, drink for joy.
DONDOLO
Let every Gypsy
Dance with his doxy,
And then drink, drink for joy.
ALL GYPSIES
And then drink, drink for joy.
Exeunt with a strange wild-fashioned dance to the oboes or cornetts
Enter Duchess, Lord Cardinal, and other Lords
LORD CARDINAL
That which is merely called a will in woman,
I cannot always title it with a virtue.
DUCHESS
O good sir, spare me.
LORD CARDINAL Spare yourself, good madam.
Extremest justice is not so severe
To great offenders as your own forced strictness
To beauty, youth and time. You’ll answer for’t.
DUCHESS
Sir, settle your own peace; let me make mine.
LORD CARDINAL
But here’s a heart must pity it. When it thinks on’t,
I find compassion, though the smart be yours.
FIRST LORD
None here but does the like.
SECOND LORD Believe it, madam,
You have much wronged your time.
FIRST LORD Nay, let your grace
But think upon the barrenness of succession.
SECOND LORD
Nay, more, a vow enforced.
DUCHESS
What, do you all
Forsake me then, and take part with you man?
Not one friend have I left? Do they all fight
Under th’inglorious banner of his censure,
Serve under his opinion?
LORD CARDINAL
So will all, madam,
Whose judgements can but taste a rightful cause.
I look for more force yet; nay, your own women
Will shortly rise against you when they know
The war to be so just and honourable
As marriage is. You cannot name that woman
Will not come ready armed for such a cause.
Can chastity be any whit impaired
By that which makes it perfect? Answer, madam.
Do you profess constancy, and yet live alone?
How can that hold? You’re constant, then, to none.
That’s a dead virtue. Goodness must have practice,
Or else it ceases. Then is woman said
To be love-chaste knowing but one man’s bed —
A mighty virtue. Beside, fruitfulness
Is part of the salvation of your sex;
And the true use of wedlock’s time and space
Is woman’s exercise for faith and grace.
DUCHESS
O, what have you done, my lord?
LORD CARDINAL Laid the way plain
To knowledge of yourself and your creation;
Unbound a forced vow that was but knit
By the strange jealousy of your dying lord,
Sinful i’th’ fast’ning.
DUCHESS
All the powers of constancy
Will curse you for this deed.
LORD CARDINAL You speak in pain, madam,
And so I take your words like one in sickness
That rails at his best friend. I know a change
Of disposition has a violent working
In all of us; ’tis fit it should have time
And counsel with itself. May you be fruitful, madam,
In all the blessings of an honoured love.
FIRST LORD
In all your wishes fortunate, [aside] and I
The chief of ‘em myself.
LORD CARDINAL Peace be at your heart, lady.
FIRST LORD And love, say I.
LORD CARDINAL
We’ll leave good thoughts now to bring in themselves.
Exeunt Lord Cardinal and Lords
DUCHESS
O, there’s no art like a religious cunning!
It carries away all things smooth before it.
How subtlely has his wit dealt with the lords,
To fetch in their persuasions to a business
That stands in need of none, yields of itself,
As most we women do when we seem farthest!
But little thinks the Cardinal he’s requited
After the same proportion of deceit
As he sets down for others.
Enter Page
O, here’s the pretty boy he preferred to me.
I never saw a meeker, gentler youth
Yet made for man’s beginning. How unfit
Was that poor fool to be Lactantio’s page!
He would have spoiled him quite, in one year utterly;
There had been no hope of him. Come hither, child,
I have forgot thy name.
PAGE
Antonio, madam.
DUCHESS
Antonio! So thou told’st me. I must chide thee:
Why didst thou weep when thou cam’st first to serve me?
PAGE
At the distrust of mine own merits, madam,
Knowing I was not born to those deserts
To please so great a mistress.
DUCHESS
‘Las, poor boy,
That’s nothing in thee but thy modest fear,
Which makes amends faster than thou canst err.
It shall be my care to have him well brought up
As a youth apt for good things. Celia!
[Enter Celia]
CELIA
Madam.
DUCHESS
Has he bestowed his hour today for music?
CELIA
Yes, he has, madam.
DUCHESS
How do you find his voice?
CELIA
A pretty, womanish, faint, sprawling voice, madam;
But ‘twill grow strong in time if he take care
To keep it, when he has it, from fond exercises.
DUCHESS
Give order to the dancing-schoolmaster
Observe an hour with him.
CELIA
It shall be done, lady.
He is well made for dancing, thick i’th’ chest, madam.
He will turn long and strongly.
DUCHESS
He shall not be behind a quality
That aptness in him or our cost can purchase;
And see he lose no time.
CELIA
I’ll take that order, madam.
PAGE
[aside]
Singing and dancing!’Las, my case is worse.
I rather need a midwife and a nurse.
Exeunt Celia and Page
DUCHESS
Lactantio, my procurer, not returned yet?
His malice I have fitted with an office
Which he takes pleasure to discharge with rigour.
Enter General [Andrugio], Lactantio, and the guard
He comes, and with him my heart’s conqueror.
My pleasing thraldom’s near.
ANDRUGIO
[to Lactantio] Not know the cause?
LACTANTIO
Yes, you shall soon do that now, to the ruin
Of your neck-part, or some nine years’ imprisonment.
You meet with mercy an you scape with that —
Beside your lands all begged and seized upon —
That’s admirable favour. Here’s the Duchess.
DUCHESS
[to Andrugio]
O sir, you’re welcome.
LACTANTIO
[aside] Marry, bless me still
From such a welcome.
DUCHESS
You are hard to come by,
It seems, sir, by the guilt of your long stay.
ANDRUGIO
My guilt, good madam?
DUCHESS
Sure you’d much ado
To take him, had you not? Speak truth, Lactantio,
And leave all favour: were you not in danger?
LACTANTIO
Faith, something near it, madam. He grew headstrong,
Furious and fierce; but ’tis not my condition
To speak the worst things of mine enemy, madam;
Therein I hold mine honour. But had fury
Burst into all the violent storms that ever
Played over anger in tempestuous man,
I would have brought him to your grace’s presence,
Dead or alive.
DUCHESS
[to Andrugio]
You would not, sir?
ANDRUGIO
What pride
Of pampered blood has mounted up this puckfist?
If any way, uncounselled of my judgement,
My ignorance has stepped into some error,
Which I could heart’ly curse, and so brought on me
Your great displeasure, let me feel my sin
In the full weight of justice, virtuous madam,
And let it wake me throughly. But, chaste lady,
Out of the bounty of your grace, permit not
This perfumed parcel of curled powdered hair
To cast me in the poor relish of his censure.
DUCHESS
It shall not need, good sir; we are ourself
Of power sufficient to judge you, ne’er doubt it, sir. —
Withdraw, Lactantio; carefully place your guard
I’th’ next room.
LACTANTIO
[to Andrugio]
You’ll but fare the worse.
You see your niceness spoils you. You’ll go nigh now
To feel your sin indeed.
ANDRUGIO
Hell-mouth be with thee!
Exeunt Lactantio and guard
Was ever malice seen yet to gape wider
For man’s misfortunes?
DUCHESS
First, sir, I should think
You could not be so impudent to deny
What your own knowledge proves to you.
ANDRUGIO
That were a sin, madam,
More gross than flattery spent upon a villain.
DUCHESS
Your own confession dooms you, sir.
ANDRUGIO
Why, madam?
DUCHESS
Do not you know I made a serious vow
At my lord’s death never to marry more?
ANDRUGIO
That’s a truth, madam, I’m a witness to.
DUCHESS
Is’t so, sir? You’ll be taken presently;
This man needs no accuser. Knowing so much,
How durst you then attempt so bold a business
As to solicit me, so strictly settled,
With tempting letters and loose lines of love?
ANDRUGIO
Who, I do’t, madam?
DUCHESS
Sure the man will shortly
Deny he lives, although he walk and breathe.
ANDRUGIO
Better destruction snatch me quick from sight
Of human eyes than I should sin so boldly.
DUCHESS
’Twas well I kept it then from rage or lire,
For my truth’s credit. Look you, sir.
[She gives him the letter]
Read out.
You know the hand and name.
ANDRUGIO
Andrugio!
DUCHESS
An if such things be fit the world shall judge.
ANDRUGIO
Madam —
DUCHESS
Pish, that’s not so; it begins otherwise.
Pray look again, sir. How you’d slight your knowledge!
ANDRUGIO
By all the reputation I late won —
DUCHESS
Nay, an you dare not read, sir, I am gone.
ANDRUGIO
Read? ‘Most fair Duchess!’
DUCHESS
O, have you found it now?
There’s a sweet flatt’ring phrase for a beginning.
You thought, belike, that would o’ercome me.
ANDRUGIO
I, madam?
DUCHESS
Nay, on, sir; you are slothful.
ANDRUGIO
‘The report of your vow shall not fear me—’
DUCHESS
No? Are you so resolute. ’Tis well for you, sir.
ANDRUGIO
‘I know you’re but a woman—’
DUCHESS
Well, what then, sir?
ANDRUGIO
‘And what a woman is a wise man knows.’
DUCHESS
Let him know what he can, he’s glad to get us.
ANDRUGIO
‘Perhaps my condition may seem blunt to you—’
DUCHESS
Well; we find no fault with your bluntness.
ANDRUGIO
‘But no man’s love can be more sharp set—’
DUCHESS
Ay, there’s good stuff now.
ANDRUGIO
‘And I know
Desires in both sexes have skill at that weapon.’
DUCHESS
‘Weapon’! You begin like a flatterer, and end like a fencer.
Are these fit lines now to be sent to us?
ANDRUGIO
Now by the honour of a man, his truth, madam,
My name’s abused.
DUCHESS
Fie, fie, deny your hand?
I will not deny mine; here, take it freely, sir,
And with it my true constant heart for ever.
I never disgraced man that sought my favour.
ANDRUGIO
What mean you, madam?
DUCHESS
To requite you, sir.
By courtesy I hold my reputation,
And you shall taste it. Sir, in as plain truth
As the old time walked in when love was simple
And knew no art nor guile, I affect you.
My heart has made her choice. I love you, sir,
Above my vow. The frown that met you first
Wore not the livery of anger, sir,
But of deep policy. I made your enemy
The instrument for all; there you may praise me,
And ‘twill not be ill given.
ANDRUGIO
[aside] Here’s a strange language!
The constancy of love bless me from learning on’t,
Although ambition would soon teach it others. —
Madam, the service of whole life is yours; but —
DUCHESS
Enough; thou’rt mine for ever. — Within there!
Enter Lactantio and the guard
LACTANTIO
Madam.
DUCHESS
Lay hands upon him; bear him hence;
See he be kept close prisoner in our palace.
[Aside to Andrugio] The time’s not yet ripe for our nuptial solace.
Exit
LACTANTIO
This you could clear yourself?
ANDRUGIO
[aside] There’s a voice that wearies me
More than mine own distractions.
LACTANTIO
You are innocent?
ANDRUGIO
[aside]
I have not a time idle enough from passion
To give this devil an answer. O, she’s lost!
Cursed be that love by which a better’s crossed!
LACTANTIO
How is he disgraced,
And I advanced in love! Faith, he that can
Wish more to his enemy is a spiteful man,
And worthy to be punished. Exit
Finis Actus Quartus