Men. What?
Pietro. Farewell.
Men. God! how weak a lord are you! 160
Why, do you think there is no more but so?
Pietro. Why!
Men. Nay, then, will I presume to counsel you:
It should be thus. You with some guard upon the sudden
Break into the princess’ chamber: I stay behind,
Without the door, through which he needs must pass:
Ferneze flies; let him: to me he comes; he’s kill’d
By me, observe, by me: you follow: I rail,
And seem to save the body. Duchess comes,
On whom (respecting her advancèd birth, 170
And your fair nature), I know, nay, I do know,
No violence must be us’d; she comes: I storm,
I praise, excuse Ferneze, and still maintain
The duchess’ honour: she for this loves me.
I honour you; shall know her soul, you mine:
Then naught shall she contrive in vengeance
(As women are most thoughtful in revenge)
Of her Ferneze, but you shall sooner know’t
Than she can think’t. Thus shall his death come sure,
Your duchess brain-caught: so your life secure. 180
Pietro. It is too well: my bosom and my heart
When nothing helps, cut off the rotten part.
[Exit.
Men. Who cannot feign friendship can ne’er produce the effects of hatred. Honest fool duke! subtle lascivious duchess! silly novice Ferneze! I do laugh at ye. My brain is in labour till it produce mischief, and I feel sudden throes, proofs sensible, the issue is at hand.
As bears shape young, so I’ll form my device,
Which grown proves horrid: vengeance makes men wise.
[Exit.
[387] “With favour”—omitted in some copies of ed. 2.