Hip. 'Twould make one half despair.
Ven. I was the man.
Defy me now; let's see, do't modestly.
Gra. O hell unto my soul!
Ven. In that disguise, I, sent from the duke's son,
Tried you, and found you base metal,
As any villain might have done.
Gra. O, no,
No tongue but yours could have bewitch'd me so.
Ven. O nimble in damnation, quick in ru'n![96]
There is no devil could strike fire so soon:
I am confuted in a word.
Gra. O sons, forgive me! to myself I'll prove more true;
You that should honour me, I kneel to you. [Kneels and weeps.
Ven. A mother to give aim to her own daughter![97]
Hip. True, brother; how far beyond nature 'tis,
Though many mothers do't!
Ven. Nay, and you draw tears once, go you to bed;
Wet will make iron blush and change to red.
Brother, it rains. 'Twill spoil your dagger: house it.