Page:The Tragedy of the Duchesse of Malfy (1623).pdf/20

 Duch. Pray let's heare it.

Ant. Say a man never marry, nor have children, What takes that from him? onely the bare name Of being a father, or the weake delight To see the little wanton, ride a cocke-horse Upon a painted sticke, or heare him chatter Like a taught Starling.

Duch. Fye, fie, what's all this? One of your eyes is blood-shot, use my Ring to't, They say 'tis very soveraigne, 'twas my wedding Ring, And I did vow never to part with it, But to my second husband.

Ant. You have parted with it now.

Duch. Yes, to helpe your eye-sight.

Ant. You have made me starke blind.

Duch. How?

Ant. There is a sawcy, and ambitious divell Is dauncing in this circle.

Duch. Remoove him.

Ant. How?

Duch. There needs small conjuration, when your finger May doe it: thus, is it fit?

Ant. What sayd you?

Duch. Sir, This goodly roose of yours, it too low built, I cannot stand upright in't, nor discourse, Without I raise it higher: raise your selfe, Or if you please, my hand to helpe you: so.

Ant. Ambition (Madam) is a great mans madnes, That is not kept in chaines, and close-pent-roomes, But in faire lightsome lodgings, and is girt With the wild noyce of pratling visitans, Which makes it lunatique, beyond all cure, Conceive not, I am so stupid, but I ayme Whereto your favours tend: But he's a foole That (being a cold) would thrust his hands i'th'fire To warme them.