Lus. What of him?
Ven. This night, this hour, this minute, now——
Lus. What? what?
Ven. Shadows the duchess——
Lus. Horrible word!
Ven. And (like strong poison) eats
Into the duke your father's forehead.
Lus. O!
Ven. He makes horn-royal.
Lus. Most ignoble slave!
Ven. This is the fruit of two beds.