Dor. Hail, holy father!
Lod. Welcome, my chaste daughter!
Dor. Death having taken good father Jacomo,
Upon the plenal and approv'd report
Of your integrity and upright dealing——
Lod. Delicate Doll! [Aside.
Dor. I have made a modest choice of you, grave sir,
To be my ghostly father: and to you I fall
For absolution.
Lod. Empty then, my daughter,
That vessel of your flesh of all the dregs
Which, since your last confession clear'd you, have
Taken a settled habitation in you;
And with a powerful sweet acknowledgment
Hunt out those spirits which haunt that house of flesh.
Tears make dry branches flourish green and fresh.
Dor. Since last I confess'd, then I do confess
My first sin was, that my tailor bringing home
My last new gown, having made the sleeves too flanting,
In an unchristian passion I did bid
The devil take him.
Lod. That was something harsh, dear daughter,
Yet the more pardonable, for it may be your tailor
Lies in hell night by night. Pray, to your second.
Dor. Next, in a more savage rage, my chambermaid
Putting a little saffron in her starch,[144]
I most unmercifully broke her head.
Lod. 'Twas rashly done too. But are you sure, dear daughter,
The maid's head was not broke before?