Page:The Tragedy of the Duchesse of Malfy (1623).pdf/45

 Car. What is't?

Ant. I doe wonder why hard-favour'd Ladies For the most part, keepe worse-favour'd waieting women, To attend them, and cannot endure faire-ones.

Duch. Oh, that's soone answer'd. Did you ever in your life know an ill Painter Desire to have his dwelling next doore to the shop Of an excellent Picture-maker? 'twould disgrace His face-making, and undoe him: I pre-thee When were we so merry? my haire tangles.

Ant. 'Pray-thee (Cariola) let's steale forth the roome, And let her talke to her selfe: I have divers times Serv'd her the like, when she hath chafde extreamely: I love to see her angry: softly Cariola.

Duch. Doth not the colour of my haire 'gin to change? When I waxe gray, I shall have all the Court Powder their haire, with Arras, to be like me: You have cause to love me, I entred you into my heart Before you would vouchsafe to call for the keyes. We shall one day have my brothers take you napping: Me thinkes his Presence (being now in Court) Should make you keepe your owne Bed: but you'll say Love mixt with feare, is sweetest: I'll assure you You shall get no more children till my brothers Consent to be your Ghossips: have you lost your tongue? 'tis welcome: For know whether I am doomb'd to live, or die, I can doe both like a Prince.

Ferd. Die then, quickle: Vertue, where art thou hid? what hideous thing Is it, that doth ecclipze thee?

Duch. 'Pray sir heare me:

Ferd. Or is it true, thou art but a bare name, And no essentiall thing?

Duch. Sir:

Ferd. Doe not speake.

Duch. No sir: I will plant my soule in mine cares, to heare you.