Bal. I cannot disgest[291] thee, the unvulgar fool. Go, fool.
Pier. Forbear, Balurdo; let the fool alone.
Come hither.[292] Is he your fool?
Mar. Yes, my loved lord.
Pier. [Aside.] Would all the states[293] in Venice were like thee!
O then I were secur’d. 110
He that’s a villain, or but meanly soul’d,
Must still converse and cling to routs of fools,
That can not search the leaks of his defects.
O, your unsalted fresh fool is your only man:
These vinegar tart spirits are too piercing,
Too searching in the unglued joints of shaken wits.
Find they a chink, they’ll wriggle in and in,
And eat like salt sea in his siddow[294] ribs,
Till they have opened all his rotten parts
Unto the vaunting surge of base contempt, 120
And sunk the tossèd galleasse[295] in depth
Of whirlpool scorn. Give me an honest fop.—
Dud a dud a! Why lo, sir, this takes he
As grateful now as a monopoly.
[The still flutes sound softly.
Enter Forobosco and Castilio: Mellida supported by two waiting-women.
Mel. All honour to this royal confluence.
Pier. Forbear, impure, to blot bright honour’s name
With thy defilèd lips. The flux of sin
Flows from thy tainted body: thou so foul,
So all dishonour’d, canst no honour give,
No wish of good, that can have good effect 130
To this grave senate, and illustrate bloods.
Why stays the doom of death?
1st. Sen. Who riseth up to manifest her guilt?