SPU. Duke, thou didst do me wrong; and, by thy act Adultery is my nature. Faith, if the truth were known, I was begot After some gluttonous dinner; some stirring dish Was my first father, when deep healths went round, And ladies' cheeks were painted red with wine, Their tongues, as short and nimble as their heels, Uttering words sweet and thick; and when they rose, Were merrily dispos'd to fall again. In such a whisp'ring and withdrawing hour, When base male-bawds kept sentinel at stair-head, Was I stol'n softly. O damnation meet![23] The sin of feasts, drunken adultery! I feel it swell me; my revenge is just! I was begot in impudent wine and lust. Step-mother, I consent to thy desires; I love thy mischief well; but I hate thee And those three cubs thy sons, wishing confusion, Death and disgrace may be their epitaphs. As for my brother, the duke's only son, Whose birth is more beholding to report Than mine, and yet perhaps as falsely sown (Women must not be trusted with their own), I'll loose my days upon him, hate-all-I; Duke, on thy brow I'll draw my bastardy: For indeed a bastard by nature should make cuckolds, Because he is the son of a cuckold-maker. [_Exit._ _Enter_ VENDICE _and_ HIPPOLITO. VENDICE _in disguise,_ _to attend_ L. LUSURIOSO, _the duke's son_. VEN. What, brother, am I far enough from myself? HIP. As if another man had been sent whole Into the world, and none wist how he came. VEN. It will confirm me bold--the child o' th' court; Let blushes dwell i' th' country. Impudence! Thou goddess of the palace, mistress of mistresses, To whom the costly perfum'd people pray, Strike thou my forehead into dauntless marble, Mine eyes to steady sapphires. Turn my visage; And, if I must needs glow, let me blush inward, That this immodest season may not spy That scholar in my cheeks, fool bashfulness; That maid in the old time, whose flush of grace Would never suffer her to get good clothes. Our maids are wiser, and are less asham'd; Save Grace the bawd, I seldom hear grace nam'd! HIP. Nay, brother, you reach out o' th' verge now---- 'Sfoot, the duke's son! settle your looks. VEN. Pray, let me not be doubted. HIP. My lord---- _Enter_ LUSURIOSO. LUS. Hippolito--be absent, leave us! HIP. My lord, after long search, wary inquiries, And politic siftings, I made choice of yon fellow, Whom I guess rare for many deep employments: This our age swims within him; and if Time Had so much hair, I should take him for Time, He is so near kin to this present minute. LUS. 'Tis enough; We thank thee: yet words are but great men's blanks; Gold, though it be dumb, does utter the best thanks.