Page:The Tragedy of the Duchesse of Malfy (1623).pdf/37

 Is this her wit, or honesty that speakes thus? I heard one say the Duke was highly mov'd With a letter sent from Malfy: I doe feare Antonio is betray'd: how fearefully Shewes his ambition now, (unfortunate Fortune) "They passe through whirle-pooles, and deepe woes doe shun, Who the event weigh, ere the action's done. Ferd. I have this night dig'd up a man-drake.

Car. Say you?

Ferd. And I am growne mad with't.

Car. What's the progedy?

Ferd. Read there, a sister dampn'd, she's loose i'th' hilts; Growne a notorious Strumpet.

Car. Speake lower.

Ferd. Lower? Rogues do not whisper't now, but seeke to publish't, (As servants do the bounty of their Lords) Aloud; and with a covetuous searching eye, To marke who note them: Oh confusion sease her, She hath had most cunning baudes to serve her turne, And more secure conveyances for lust, Then Townes of garrison, for Service.

Card. Is't possible? Can this be certaine?

Ferd. Rubarbe, oh, for rubarbe To purge this choller, here's the cursed day To prompt my memory, and here'it shall sticke Till of her bleeding heart, I make a spunge To wipe it out.

Card. Why doe you make your selfe So wild a Tempest?