Mal. Dull, dull duke, can lazy patience make lame revenge? O God, for a woman to make a man that which God never created, never made!
Pietro. What did God never make?
Mal. A cuckold: to be made a thing that’s hoodwinked with kindness, whilst every rascal fillips his brows; to have a coxcomb with egregious horns pinned to a lord’s back, every page sporting himself with delightful laughter, whilst he must be the last must know it: pistols and poniards! pistols and poniards! 143
Pietro. Death and damnation!
Mal. Lightning and thunder!
Pietro. Vengeance and torture!
Mal. Catso![373]
Pietro. O, revenge!
Mal.[374] Nay, to select among ten thousand fairs
A lady far inferior to the most,
In fair proportion both of limb and soul;
To take her from austerer check of parents,
To make her his by most devoutful rites, 150
Make her commandress of a better essence
Than is the gorgeous world, even of a man;
To hug her with as rais’d an appetite
As usurers do their delv’d-up treasury
(Thinking none tells it but his private self);
To meet her spirit in a nimble kiss,
Distilling panting ardour to her heart;
True to her sheets, nay, diets strong his blood,
To give her height of hymeneal sweets,——
Pietro. O God! 160