Don. Of all these follies I arrest your grace.
Gon. Me? ha! me? me, varlet? me, fool? Ha! to th’ jail with him! What, varlet? call me ass?—me?
Herc. What! grave Urbin’s duke? 441
Dares Folly’s sceptre touch his prudent shoulders?
Is he a coxcomb? No, my lord is wise;
For we all know that Urbin’s duke has eyes.
Gon. God ha’ mercy, Fawn! Hold fast, varlet!
Hold thee, good Fawn!—railing reprobate!
Herc. Indeed, I must confess your grace did tell
And first did intimate your daughter’s love
To otherwise most cold Tiberio;
After convey’d her private favour to him, 450
A curious scarf, wherein her needle wrought
Her private love to him.
Gon. What! I do this? Ha!
Herc. And last, by her persuasion, show’d the youth
The very way and best-elected time
To come unto her chamber.
Gon. Thus did I, sir?
Herc. Thus did you, sir; but I must confess
You meant not to do this, but were rankly gull’d—
Made a plain natural. This sure, sir, you did.
And in assurance, Prince Tiberio,
Renowned, witted Dulcimel, appear! 460
The acts of constant honour cannot fear.
[Exit Hercules.