Page:The Tragedy of the Duchesse of Malfy (1623).pdf/89

 As adultery: Sir, never was occasion For perfect triall of my constancy Till now: Sir, I beseech you.

Card. You'll repent it.

Jul. Never.

Card. It hurries thee to ruine: I'll not tell thee, Be well advis'd, and thinke what danger 'tis To receive a Princes secrets: they that do, Had neede have their breasts hoop'd with adamant To containe them: I pray thee yet be satisfi'd, Examine thine owne frailety, 'tis more easie To tie knots, then unloose them: 'tis a secret That (like a lingring poyson) may chance lie Spread in thy vaines, and kill thee seaven yeare hence.

Jul. Now you dally with me.

Card. No more, thou shalt know it. By my appointment, the great Duchesse of Malfy, And two of her young children, foure nights since Were strangled.

Jul. Oh heaven! (sir) what have you done?

Card. How now? how setles this? thinke you your Bosome will be a grave, darke and obscure enough For such a secret?

Jul. You have undone your selfe (sir.)

Card. Why?

Jul. It lies not in me to conceale it.

Card. No? come, I will sweare you to't upon this booke.

Jul. Most religiously.

Card. Kisse it. Now you shall never utter it, thy curiosity Hath undone thee: thou'rt poyson'd with that booke, Because I knew thou couldst not keepe my councell, I have bound the to't by death.

Bos. For pitty sake, hold.

Card. Ha, Bosola?

Jul. I forgive you, This equall peece of Justice you have done: For I betraid your councell to that fellow, He over heard it; that was the cause I said It lay not in me, to conceale it.

Bos. Oh foolish woman,