+Dor.+ Now Pambo, that makes him merry in his chamber, shall, when the candle's out and he asleep, bring you into the chamber. +Fran.+ But will he be secret? +Dor.+ Will he, good soul! I am not to try him now. +Fran.+ 'Sfoot, this is brave, My kind lord's fool is my cunning lady's knave. But, pray, how then? +Dor.+ When you are in at door on right before you, you shall feel the bed; give me but softly a touch, I'll rise, and follow you into the next chamber: but truly, and you do not use me kindly, I shall cry out and spoil all. +Fran.+ Use you kindly! was lady e'er used cruelly i' th' dark? Do you but prepare Pambo and your maid: let me alone with her mistress. About eleven I desire to be expected. +Dor.+ And till the clock strike twelve, I'll lie awake. +Fran.+ Now ye dare kiss? +Dor.+ Once with my friend, or so; yet you may take two, Francis. +Fran.+ My cast is ames-ace then. +Dor.+ Deuce-ace had got the game. +Fran.+ Why, then, you're welcome. Adieu, my dainty mistress. +Dor.+ Farewell, kind Francis. [_Exeunt._ _Enter +Lorenzo+, as from horse._ +Lor.+ I have given them all the slip, the duke and all, And am at home before them. I cannot rest, Philippo and my wife run in my mind so: I know no cause why I should trust him more Than all the world beside. I remember He told her that I bought the buck's-head, therefore Deserv'd the horns: although I bid him try her, Yet I did not bid him bid her with one eye Love me, and with the other wink at a friend. How we long to grow familiar with affliction; And, as many words do aptly hold concordance To make one sentence, just so many causes Seem to agree, when conceit makes us cuckolds. _Enter +Philippo+ and +Abstemia+. +Lorenzo+ aside._ And here comes proof apparent; hand in hand too! Now their palms meet: that grasp begets a bastard! +Phil.+ By your white hand, I swear 'twas only so. +Lor.+ Poison of toads betwixt ye! +Abs.+ Philippo, you have fully satisfied me. +Lor.+ Insatiate whore! could not I satisfy ye? I shall commit a murder if I stay: I'll go forge thunder for ye. O, let me Nevermore marry! what plague can transcend A whorish wife and a perfidious friend! [_Exit._ +Phil.+ By the unblemish'd faith then of a gentleman, And by your potent goodness (a great oath, For you are greatly good), by truth itself; For still I swear by you--what again hath pass'd, Was at the first but trial of your chastity, Far above time or story: as I speak truth, So may I prosper. +Abs.+ And came these trials from your breast only? +Phil.+ Only from my breast; and by the sweet Excellent blush of virtue, there is in you Plenty of truth and goodness.