_Mal._ And with that Gold Which Don _Vitelli_ gives, you'll walk some voyage And leave me to my Trade; and laugh, and brag, How you o'er-reach'd a whore, and gull'd a Lord. _Pio._ You anger me extreamly: fare you well. What should I say to be believ'd? expose me To any hazard; or like jealous _Juno_ (Th' incensed step-mother of _Hercules_) Design me labours most impossible, I'll doe 'em, or die in 'em; so at last You will believe me. _Mal._ Come, we are friends: I do, I am thine, walk in: my Lord has sent me outsides, But thou shall have 'em, the colours are too sad: _Pio._ 'Faith Mistriss, I want clothes indeed. _Mal._ I have Some Gold too, for my servant. _Pio._ And I have A better mettal for my Mistriss. [_Exeunt._ _Scæna Tertia._ _Enter_ Vitelli _and_ Alguazier, _at several doors_. _Alg._ Undone--wit now or never help me: my Master He will cut my throat, I am a dead Constable; And he'll not be hang'd neither, there's the grief: The party, Sir, is here. _Vit._ What? _Alg._ He was here; I cry your Lordship mercy: but I ratled him; I told him here was no companions For such debauch'd, and poor condition'd fellows; I bid him venture not so desperately The cropping of his ears, slitting his nose, Or being gelt. _Vit._ 'Twas well done. _Alg._ Please your honor, I told him there were Stews, and then at last Swore three or four great oaths she was remov'd, Which I did think I might, in conscience, Being for your Lordship. _Vit._ What became of him? _Alg._ Faith Sir, he went away with a flea in's ear, Like a poor cur, clapping his trundle tail Betwixt his legs.--_A chi ha, a chi ha, a chi ha_--now luck. _Enter_ Malroda _and_ Piorato. _Mal._ 'Tis he, do as I told thee: Bless thee Signior. Oh, my dear Lord. _Vit. Malroda_, what alone? _Mal._ She never is alone, that is accompanied With noble thoughts, my Lord; and mine are such, Being only of your Lordship. _Vit._ Pretty Lass. _Mal._ Oh my good Lord, my Picture's done: but 'faith It is not like; nay, this way Sir, the light Strikes best upon it here. _Pio._ Excellent wench. [_Exit._ _Alg._ I am glad the danger's over. [_Exit._ _Vit._ 'Tis wondrous like, But that Art cannot counterfeit what Nature Could make but once. _Mal._ All's clear; another tune You must hear from me now: _Vitelli_, thou'rt A most perfidious and a perjur'd man, As ever did usurp Nobility. _Vit._ What meanst thou _Mal_?