DUCHESS. Doth not the colour of my hair 'gin to change? When I wax gray, I shall have all the court Powder their hair with arras,[81] to be like me. You have cause to love me; I ent'red you into my heart [Enter FERDINAND unseen] Before you would vouchsafe to call for the keys. We shall one day have my brothers take you napping. Methinks his presence, being now in court, Should make you keep your own bed; but you 'll say Love mix'd with fear is sweetest. I 'll assure you, You shall get no more children till my brothers Consent to be your gossips. Have you lost your tongue? 'Tis welcome: For know, whether I am doom'd to live or die, I can do both like a prince. FERDINAND. Die, then, quickly! Giving her a poniard. Virtue, where art thou hid? What hideous thing Is it that doth eclipse thee? DUCHESS. Pray, sir, hear me. FERDINAND. Or is it true thou art but a bare name, And no essential thing? DUCHESS. Sir---- FERDINAND. Do not speak. DUCHESS. No, sir: I will plant my soul in mine ears, to hear you. FERDINAND. O most imperfect light of human reason, That mak'st [us] so unhappy to foresee What we can least prevent! Pursue thy wishes, And glory in them: there 's in shame no comfort But to be past all bounds and sense of shame. DUCHESS. I pray, sir, hear me: I am married. FERDINAND. So! DUCHESS. Happily, not to your liking: but for that, Alas, your shears do come untimely now To clip the bird's wings that 's already flown! Will you see my husband? FERDINAND. Yes, if I could change Eyes with a basilisk. DUCHESS. Sure, you came hither By his confederacy. FERDINAND. The howling of a wolf Is music to thee, screech-owl: prithee, peace.-- Whate'er thou art that hast enjoy'd my sister, For I am sure thou hear'st me, for thine own sake Let me not know thee. I came hither prepar'd To work thy discovery; yet am now persuaded It would beget such violent effects As would damn us both. I would not for ten millions I had beheld thee: therefore use all means I never may have knowledge of thy name; Enjoy thy lust still, and a wretched life, On that condition.--And for thee, vile woman, If thou do wish thy lecher may grow old In thy embracements, I would have thee build Such a room for him as our anchorites To holier use inhabit. Let not the sun Shine on him till he 's dead; let dogs and monkeys Only converse with him, and such dumb things To whom nature denies use to sound his name; Do not keep a paraquito, lest she learn it; If thou do love him, cut out thine own tongue, Lest it bewray him. DUCHESS. Why might not I marry? I have not gone about in this to create Any new world or custom.