+Moc.+ Do you know one Signior Aurelio, then? He is the man; he wooed my mistress, and sought to win her from me. +Bravo.+ A warrantable cause! show me the man, and 'tis enough. +Moc.+ And what must I give you? +Bravo.+ At a word, thirty livres: I'll not bate you a betso.[327] +Moc.+ I'll give you twenty. +Bravo.+ You bid like a chapman. Well, 'tis a hard time; in hope of your custom hereafter, I'll take your money. +Moc.+ There 'tis. Now for the means; how can you compass it? Were you not best poison him, think you? +Bravo.+ With a bullet or stiletto. Poison him! I scorn to do things so poorly; no, I'll use valour in my villany, or I'll do nothing. +Moc.+ You speak honourably: and, now I think on't, what if you beat him well-favouredly, and spare his life? +Bravo.+ Beat him! stay there; I'll kill him for this sum, but I'll not beat him for thrice the value; so he might do as much for me: no, I'll leave him impotent for all thought of revenge. _Enter +Lucretia+._ +Moc.+ Well, sir, use your pleasure. Look you, here's the gentlewoman for whose sake it is done. Lady, you are come most opportunely to be a witness of my love and zeal to you; he is the man that will do the feat. +Luc.+ What feat? +Moc.+ That you and I consulted of; kill the rascal Aurelio, take him out of the way: what should he live any longer for? I'll have no man breathe that you disgust. +Luc.+ Then ought you to go and hang yourself. +Moc.+ Who, I hang myself! for what? my good service and respect to your quiet? If he have any mind to haunt your chamber hereafter, he shall do it as a ghost, without any substantial shape, I assure you. +Luc.+ I think the fool is in earnest: I must use policy, and not play away a man's life so. [_Aside._] Nay, prythee, sweetheart, be not angry, 'twas but to try thee: this kiss and my love. [_Kisses him._ +Moc.+ Why, here's some amends yet: now 'tis as it should be. +Luc.+ I am as deep and eager in this purpose As you are, therefore grant me leave a little To talk with him: I have some private counsel To give him for the better execution. +Moc.+ May I not hear? +Luc.+ No, as you love me, go. +Moc.+ Her humour must be law: we that are suitors Must deal with women as with towns besieg'd, Offer them fair conditions till you get them, And then we'll tyrannise. Yet there's a doubt Is not resolv'd on. +Luc.+ Good sir, begone. +Moc.+ I vanish. Were I best trust this fellow with my mistress? Temptations may arise: 'tis all one, I am A right Italian, and the world shall see That my revenge is above jealousy. [_Exit._ +Bravo.+ Now, lady, your pleasure?