Rand. Certainly: and to hear
The people now dissect him now he's gone,
Makes my ears burn, that lov'd him not: such Libels,
Such Elegies and Epigrams they have made,
More odious than he was. Brother, great men
Had need to live by love, meting their deeds
With virtues rule; sound, with the weight of judgement,
Their privat'st action: for though while they live
Their power and policie masque their villanies,
Their bribes, their lust, pride, and ambition,
And make a many slaves to worship 'em,
That are their flatterers, and their bawds in these:
These very slaves shall, when these great beasts dye,
Publish their bowels to the vulgar eye.
Ben. 'Fore Heaven 'tis true. But is Rinaldo (brother) our good Duke, heard of living?
Rand. Living, Sir, and will be shortly with the Senate: has
Been close conceal'd at Mantua, and reliev'd:
But what's become of his? no tidings yet?
But brother, till our good Duke shall arrive,
Carry this news, here. Where's your Ferdinand?
Ben. Oh busie, Sir, about this marriage:
And yet my Girl o'th' suddain is fall'n sick:
You'll see her e'r you go?
Rand. Yes; well I love her;
And yet I wish I had another daughter
To gratifie my Gerrard, who (by ——)
Is all the glory of my family,
But has too much worth to [l]ive so obscure;
I'll have him Secretary of Estate
Upon the Dukes return: for credit me,
The value of that Gentleman's not known;
His strong abilities are fit to guide
The whole Republique: he hath Learning, youth,
Valour, discretion, honesty of a Saint;
His Aunt is wondrous good too.
Enter Violanta in a bed; Angelina and Dorothea sitting by her.
Ben. You have spoke
The very character of Ferdinand:
One is the others mirror. How now, Daughter?
Rand. How fares my Neece?
Viol. A little better, Uncle, then I was,
I thank you.
Rand. Brother, a meer cold.