Duke. Now he can come to hand. Ha, ha, thinking men never love heartily, unless they be dank powder.
Claud. His courtship is like thick embroidery upon
Slight stuff. I must confess, I never
Lov'd the man, only as a rich gown out of
Fashion, for a day's change sometimes at home,
When I take physic.
Duke. You may wear him as you please, and to what
Purpose; his honest nature was meant you so;
But Dessandro is the man of men (I must confess),
That I could wish most near you now.
Claud. Dessandro!
Duke. And suddenly, before your honour blush too palpably:
I have discovered him and his devotions.
Claud. Then your brains were in his plot.
Duke. 'Twas his own.
Claud. Stol'n from some romance or play! but
For De Flame——
Duke. One wheel will move another to the period.
Claud. Methinks, his soft and easy spirit should be
The fitter engine, and more pliant to your aim.