Phil. 'Tis true,
By all that honest men may be believed by.
Three several times I tried her, by him urg'd to't,
Yet still my truth not started, kept so constant,
That till this hour this lady thus much knew not.
I bore her brave reproofs. O, when she spake,
The saints (sure) listen'd, and at every point
She got th' applause of angels! Now, upon this,
This jealous lord infers (and it may be
But to shun futurity) that I,
His betray'd friend, could not hold the cup,
But I must drink the poison. No, Lorenzo,
An honest man is still an unmov'd rock,
Wash'd whiter, but not shaken with the shock
Whose heart conceives no sinister device:
Fearless he plays with flames, and treads on ice.
Ver. Cousin, did you, as your friend here affirms,
Counsel him to these trials?
Lor. I?
Phil. You did.
Lor. Philippo, thou art fallen from a good man,
And hast ta'en leave of modesty. Let these my servants—
That incredulity should be induction
To my more certain shame—let these speak
And relate what they saw: they grew so public,
My servants could discover them.
Pan. Speak, friends, be fearless;
And what you know, even to a syllable,
Boldly confess.
1st Slave. Then know, great sir, as soon
As e'er my lord was gone to meet your grace,
Signor Philippo and my lady privately
Went up to her bed-chamber: we two, suspecting
What afterwards we found, stole softly up,
And through the key-hole (for the door was lock'd)
We saw my lady and Count Philippo there
Upon the bed, and in the very act,
As my lord before affirm'd.
Abs. Canst thou hear, heaven,
And withhold thy thunder?
Phil. My lords, one devil, ye know,
May possess three bodies.
Ver. Will you swear this, sir?