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liver whole histories in the Tangay tongue, you would swear there were not such a linguist breath'd again; and did I but perfectly understand his language, I would be confident, in less than two hours, to distinguish the meaning of bird, beast, or fish naturally, as I myself speak Italian, my lord.Well, he has rare qualities.

Duke. Now, prithee, question him, Mauruccio.
Maur. I will, my lord.

Tell me, rare scholar, which, in thy opinion,
Doth cause the strongest breath-garlic or

onion ? Gia. Answer him, brother fool; do, do, speak thy mind, chuck, do.

Ros. Have bid seen all da fine knack, and de, e, naghtye tat-tle of da kna-ve dad la have so.

Duke. We understand him not.

Maur. Admirable, I protest, duke; mark, oh duke, mark! What did I ask him, Giacopo ?

Gia. What caused the strongest breath, garlic or onions, I take it, sir.

Maur. Right, right by Helicon! and his answer is, that a knave has a stronger breath than

any

of them : wisdom (or I am an ass) in the highest; a direct figure; put it down, Giacopo. Duke. How happy is that idiot, whose ambi

tion
Is but to eat, and sleep, and shun the rod!
Men that have more of wit, and use it ill,
Are fools in proof.

Bian. True, my lord, there's many

Who think themselves most wise, that are most

fools. D'Av. Bitter girds, if all were known;-butDuke. But what? speak out; plague on your

muttering, grumbling! I hear you, sir, what is't?

D'Av. Nothing, I protest, to your highness, pertinent to any moment. Duke. Well, sir, remember.-Friend, you pro

mised study. I am not well in temper; come, Bianca: Attend our friend, Ferentes.

[Exeunt all but Fern. Ros.

FER. and MAUR.
Fern. Ferentes, take Mauruccio in with you,
He must be one in action.

Fer. Come, my lord,
I shall entreat your help.

Fern. I'll stay the fool,
And follow instantly.
Maur. Yes, pray, my lord.

[Exeunt Fer. and Maur. Fern. How thrive your hopes now, cousin ?

8 Bitter girds.] i. e. sarcasms, strokes of satire. Ford has contrived, by several direct quotations from Sbakspeare, to put the reader in mind of Iago, to whom, for his misfortune, D'Avolos bears about the same degree of resemblance that the poor

Duke does to Othello. D'Avolos, in short, is a mere spy, a pandar to the bad passions of others, without one supportable quality to redeem the baseness of his sycophancy, or relieve the dull uniformity of his malice.

Ros. Are we safe? Then let me cast myself beneath thy foot, True, virtuous lord. Know then, sir, her proud

heart Is only fix'd on you in such extremes Of violence and passion, that I fear, Or she'll enjoy you, or she'll ruin you. Fern. Me, coz? by all the joys I wish to

taste,
She is as far beneath my thought, as I
In soul above her malice.

Ros. I obsery'd
Even now, a kind of dangerous pretence,'
In an unjointed phrase from D'Avolos.
I know not her intent; but this I know,
He has a working brain, is minister
To all my lady's counsels; and, my lord,
Pray beaven there have not any thing befallen
Within the knowledge of his subtle art,
To do you mischief!

Fern. Pish! should he or hell.
Affront me in the passage of my fate,
I'd crush them into atomies.

Ros. I do admit you could; meantime, my lord, Be nearest to yourself; what I can learn,

9 A kind of dangerous pretence.] i.e. intent, design. Thus, in Macbeth:

Against the undivulged pretence I fight

Of treasonable malice.” Atomies, which occurs in the next speech, is frequently used by our old writers for atoms, motes, &c.

You shall be soon inform'd of: here is all
We fools can catch the wise in; to unknot,
By privilege of coxcombs,' what they plot.

[Ereunt.

SCENE III.

Another Room in the same.

Enter Duke and D'Avolos.

Duke. Thou art a traitor: do not think the gloss Of smooth evasion, by your cunning jests, And coinage of your politician's brain, Shall jig me off; I'll know't, I vow I will. Did not I note your dark abrupted ends Of words half spoke? your “ wells, if all were

known ?" Your short, “I like not that?” your girds and

<< buts ?"
Yes, sir, I did; such broken language argues.
More matter than your subtlety shall hide:
Tell me, what is't? by honour's self, I'll know.

D'Av. What would you know, my lord ? I confess I owe my life and service to you, as to my prince; the one you have, the other you may take from me at your pleasure. Should I devise matter to feed your distrust, or suggest likelihoods without appearance ?—what would you have me say? I know nothing

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By privilege of coxcombs,] i.e. of fool-caps.

with us,

Duke. Thou liest, dissembler; on thy brow I

read
Distracted horrors figured in thy looks.
On thy allegiance, D'Avolos, as e'er
Thou hop'st to live in grace

unfold
What by the party-halting of thy speech
Thy knowledge can discover. By the faith
We bear to sacred justice, we protest,
Be it or good or evil, thy reward
Shall be our special thanks, and love unterm'd :-
Speak, on thy duty; we, thy prince, command.

D'Av. Oh my disaster! my lord, I am so charmed by those powerful repetitions of love and duty, that I cannot conceal what I know of your dishonour. Duke. Dishonour!" then my soul is cleft with

fear : I half presage my misery; say on, Speak it at once, for I am great with grief.

D'Av. I trust your highness will pardon me; yet I will not deliver a syllable which shall be less innocent than truth itself.

Duke. By all our wish of joys, we pardon thee.

D'Av. Get from me, cowardly servility! my service is noble, and my loyalty an armour of brass : in short, my lord, and plain discovery, you are a cuckold.

Duke. Keep in the word,-a cuckold?

? And love unterm d.] i.e. inexpressible; or rather, perhaps, interminable.

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