Enter Flamineo and Marcello guarded, and a Lawyer
Lawyer. What, are you in by the week? So—I will try now whether they
wit be close prisoner—methinks none should sit upon thy sister, but
old whore-masters——
Flam. Or cuckolds; for your cuckold is your most terrible tickler of
lechery. Whore-masters would serve; for none are judges at tilting,
but those that have been old tilters.
Lawyer. My lord duke and she have been very private.
Flam. You are a dull ass; 'tis threatened they have been very public.
Lawyer. If it can be proved they have but kissed one another——
Flam. What then?
Lawyer. My lord cardinal will ferret them.
Flam. A cardinal, I hope, will not catch conies.
Lawyer. For to sow kisses (mark what I say), to sow kisses is to reap
lechery; and, I am sure, a woman that will endure kissing is half won.