Fran. Thou kept'st their counsel.

Zan. Right; For which, urg'd with contrition, I intend This night to rob Vittoria.

Lodo. Excellent penitence!

Usurers dream on 't while they sleep out sermons.

Zan. To further our escape, I have entreated Leave to retire me, till the funeral, Unto a friend i' th' country: that excuse Will further our escape. In coin and jewels I shall at least make good unto your use An hundred thousand crowns.

Fran. Oh, n.o.ble wench!

Lodo. Those crowns we 'll share.

Zan. It is a dowry, Methinks, should make that sun-burnt proverb false, And wash the aethiop white.

Fran. It shall; away.

Zan. Be ready for our flight.

Fran. An hour 'fore day. [Exit Zanche.

Oh, strange discovery! why, till now we knew not The circ.u.mstances of either of their deaths.

Re-enter Zanche

Zan. You 'll wait about midnight in the chapel?

Fran. There. [Exit Zanche.

Lodo. Why, now our action 's justified.

Fran. Tush for justice!

What harms it justice? we now, like the partridge, Purge the disease with laurel; for the fame Shall crown the enterprise, and quit the shame. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV

Enter Flamineo and Gasparo, at one door; another way, Giovanni, attended

Gas. The young duke: did you e'er see a sweeter prince?

Flam. I have known a poor woman's b.a.s.t.a.r.d better favoured--this is behind him. Now, to his face--all comparisons were hateful. Wise was the courtly peac.o.c.k, that, being a great minion, and being compared for beauty by some dottrels that stood by to the kingly eagle, said the eagle was a far fairer bird than herself, not in respect of her feathers, but in respect of her long talons: his will grow out in time.

--My gracious lord.

Giov. I pray leave me, sir.

Flam. Your grace must be merry; 'tis I have cause to mourn; for wot you, what said the little boy that rode behind his father on horseback?

Giov. Why, what said he?

Flam. When you are dead, father, said he, I hope that I shall ride in the saddle. Oh, 'tis a brave thing for a man to sit by himself! he may stretch himself in the stirrups, look about, and see the whole compa.s.s of the hemisphere. You 're now, my lord, i' th' saddle.

Giov. Study your prayers, sir, and be penitent: 'Twere fit you 'd think on what hath former been; I have heard grief nam'd the eldest child of sin. [Exit.

Flam. Study my prayers! he threatens me divinely! I am falling to pieces already. I care not, though, like Anacharsis, I were pounded to death in a mortar: and yet that death were fitter for usurers, gold and themselves to be beaten together, to make a most cordial cullis for the devil.

He hath his uncle's villainous look already, In decimo-s.e.xto. [Enter Courtier.] Now, sir, what are you?

Court. It is the pleasure, sir, of the young duke, That you forbear the presence, and all rooms That owe him reverence.

Flam. So the wolf and the raven are very pretty fools when they are young. It is your office, sir, to keep me out?

Court. So the duke wills.

Flam. Verily, Master Courtier, extremity is not to be used in all offices: say, that a gentlewoman were taken out of her bed about midnight, and committed to Castle Angelo, to the tower yonder, with nothing about her but her smock, would it not show a cruel part in the gentleman-porter to lay claim to her upper garment, pull it o'er her head and ears, and put her in naked?

Court. Very good: you are merry. [Exit.

Flam. Doth he make a court-ejectment of me? a flaming fire-brand casts more smoke without a chimney than within 't.

I 'll smoor some of them. [Enter Francisco de Medicis.

How now? thou art sad.