The White Devil | Page 4

your husband is wondrous discontented.
Vit. I did nothing to displease him; I carved to him at supper-time.

Flam. [You need not have carved him, in faith; they say he is a capon
already. I must now seemingly fall out with you.] Shall a gentleman so
well descended as Camillo [a lousy slave, that within this twenty years
rode with the black guard in the duke's carriage, 'mongst spits and
dripping-pans!]--
Cam. Now he begins to tickle her.
Flam. An excellent scholar [one that hath a head fill'd with calves'
brains without any sage in them,] come crouching in the hams to you
for a night's lodging? [that hath an itch in 's hams, which like the fire at
the glass-house hath not gone out this seven years] Is he not a courtly
gentleman? [when he wears white satin, one would take him by his
black muzzle to be no other creature than a maggot] You are a goodly
foil, I confess, well set out [but cover'd with a false stone-- yon
counterfeit diamond].
Cam. He will make her know what is in me.
Flam. Come, my lord attends you; thou shalt go to bed to my lord.
Cam. Now he comes to 't.
Flam. [With a relish as curious as a vintner going to taste new wine.]
[To Camillo.] I am opening your case hard.
Cam. A virtuous brother, o' my credit!
Flam. He will give thee a ring with a philosopher's stone in it.
Cam. Indeed, I am studying alchemy.
Flam. Thou shalt lie in a bed stuffed with turtle's feathers; swoon in
perfumed linen, like the fellow was smothered in roses. So perfect shall
be thy happiness, that as men at sea think land, and trees, and ships, go
that way they go; so both heaven and earth shall seem to go your
voyage. Shalt meet him; 'tis fix'd, with nails of diamonds to inevitable
necessity.

Vit. How shalt rid him hence?
Flam. [I will put brize in 's tail, set him gadding presently.] I have
almost wrought her to it; I find her coming: but, might I advise you
now, for this night I would not lie with her, I would cross her humour
to make her more humble.
Cam. Shall I, shall I?
Flam. It will show in you a supremacy of judgment.
Cam. True, and a mind differing from the tumultuary opinion; for, quæ
negata, grata.
Flam. Right: you are the adamant shall draw her to you, though you
keep distance off.
Cam. A philosophical reason.
Flam. Walk by her a' th' nobleman's fashion, and tell her you will lie
with her at the end of the progress.
Cam. Vittoria, I cannot be induc'd, or as a man would say, incited----
Vit. To do what, sir?
Cam. To lie with you to-night. Your silkworm used to fast every third
day, and the next following spins the better. To-morrow at night, I am
for you.
Vit. You 'll spin a fair thread, trust to 't.
Flam. But do you hear, I shall have you steal to her chamber about
midnight.
Cam. Do you think so? why look you, brother, because you shall not
say I 'll gull you, take the key, lock me into the chamber, and say you
shall be sure of me.

Flam. In troth I will; I 'll be your jailor once.
Cam. A pox on 't, as I am a Christian! tell me to-morrow how scurvily
she takes my unkind parting.
Flam. I will.
Cam. Didst thou not mark the jest of the silkworm? Good-night; in
faith, I will use this trick often.
Flam. Do, do, do. [Exit Camillo. So, now you are safe. Ha, ha, ha, thou
entanglest thyself in thine own work like a silkworm. [Enter Brachiano.]
Come, sister, darkness hides your blush. Women are like cursed dogs:
civility keeps them tied all daytime, but they are let loose at midnight;
then they do most good, or most mischief. My lord, my lord!
Zanche brings out a carpet, spreads it, and lays on it two fair cushions.
Enter Cornelia listening, but unperceived.
Brach. Give credit: I could wish time would stand still, And never end
this interview, this hour; But all delight doth itself soon'st devour. Let
me into your bosom, happy lady, Pour out, instead of eloquence, my
vows. Loose me not, madam, for if you forgo me, I am lost eternally.
Vit. Sir, in the way of pity, I wish you heart-whole.
Brach. You are a sweet physician.
Vit. Sure, sir, a loathed cruelty in ladies Is as to doctors many funerals:
It takes away their credit.
Brach. Excellent creature! We call the cruel fair; what name for you
That are so merciful?
Zan. See now they close.
Flam. Most happy union.
Corn. [Aside.] My fears are fall'n upon me: