+Phil.+ 'Tis true, By all that honest men may be believed by. Three several times I tried her, by him urg'd to't, Yet still my truth not started, kept so constant, That till this hour this lady thus much knew not. I bore her brave reproofs. O, when she spake, The saints (sure) listen'd, and at every point She got th' applause of angels! Now, upon this, This jealous lord infers (and it may be But to shun futurity) that I, His betray'd friend, could not hold the cup, But I must drink the poison. No, Lorenzo, An honest man is still an unmov'd rock, Wash'd whiter, but not shaken with the shock Whose heart conceives no sinister device: Fearless he plays with flames, and treads on ice. +Ver.+ Cousin, did you, as your friend here affirms, Counsel him to these trials? +Lor.+ I? +Phil.+ You did. +Lor.+ Philippo, thou art fallen from a good man, And hast ta'en leave of modesty. Let these my servants-- That incredulity should be induction To my more certain shame--let these speak And relate what they saw: they grew so public, My servants could discover them. +Pan.+ Speak, friends, be fearless; And what you know, even to a syllable, Boldly confess. +1st Slave.+ Then know, great sir, as soon As e'er my lord was gone to meet your grace, Signor Philippo and my lady privately Went up to her bed-chamber: we two, suspecting What afterwards we found, stole softly up, And through the key-hole (for the door was lock'd) We saw my lady and Count Philippo there Upon the bed, and in the very act, As my lord before affirm'd. +Abs.+ Canst thou hear, heaven, And withhold thy thunder? +Phil.+ My lords, one devil, ye know, May possess three bodies. +Ver.+ Will you swear this, sir? +1st Slave.+ I will, my lord. +Spin.+ And you? +2d Slave.+ I will, and dare, sir. +Lor.+ Brave rascals! +Ver.+ Reach them the book. +Abs.+ Ye poor deluded men, O, do not swear! +Lor.+ Think of the chain of pearl. [_Aside._ +1st Slave.+ Give us the book: That we affirm the truth, the whole truth, And nothing but the truth, we swear. +Pan.+ Believe me, I am sorry for the lady. +Phil.+ How soon Two souls, more precious than a pair of worlds, Are levell'd below death! +Abs.+ O, hark! did you not hear it? +Omnes.+ What, lady? +Abs.+ This hour a pair of glorious towers are fallen; Two goodly buildings beaten with a breath Beneath the grave. You all have seen this day, A pair of souls both cast and kiss'd away. +Spin.+ What censure gives your grace?