Flam. Hang him, He wrongs me most, that ought t' offend me least: I do suspect my mother play'd foul play, When she conceiv'd thee. Marc. Now, by all my hopes, Like the two slaughter'd sons of Œdipus, The very flames of our affection Shall turn two ways. Those words I 'll make thee answer With thy heart-blood. Flam. Do, like the geese in the progress; You know where you shall find me. Marc. Very good. [Exit Flamineo. And thou be'st a noble friend, bear him my sword, And bid him fit the length on 't. Young Lord. Sir, I shall. [Exeunt all but Zanche. Zan. He comes. Hence petty thought of my disgrace! [Enter Francisco. I ne'er lov'd my complexion till now, 'Cause I may boldly say, without a blush, I love you. Fran. Your love is untimely sown; there 's a spring at Michaelmas, but 'tis but a faint one: I am sunk in years, and I have vowed never to marry. Zan. Alas! poor maids get more lovers than husbands: yet you may mistake my wealth. For, as when ambassadors are sent to congratulate princes, there 's commonly sent along with them a rich present, so that, though the prince like not the ambassador's person, nor words, yet he likes well of the presentment; so I may come to you in the same manner, and be better loved for my dowry than my virtue. Fran. I 'll think on the motion. Zan. Do; I 'll now detain you no longer. At your better leisure, I 'll tell you things shall startle your blood: Nor blame me that this passion I reveal; Lovers die inward that their flames conceal. Fran. Of all intelligence this may prove the best: Sure I shall draw strange fowl from this foul nest. [Exeunt. SCENE II Enter Marcello and Cornelia Corn. I hear a whispering all about the court, You are to fight: who is your opposite? What is the quarrel? Marc. 'Tis an idle rumour. Corn. Will you dissemble? sure you do not well To fright me thus: you never look thus pale, But when you are most angry. I do charge you, Upon my blessing--nay, I 'll call the duke, And he shall school you. Marc. Publish not a fear, Which would convert to laughter: 'tis not so. Was not this crucifix my father's? Corn. Yes. Marc. I have heard you say, giving my brother suck He took the crucifix between his hands, [Enter Flamineo. And broke a limb off. Corn. Yes, but 'tis mended. Flam. I have brought your weapon back. [Flamineo runs Marcello through. Corn. Ha! Oh, my horror! Marc. You have brought it home, indeed. Corn. Help! Oh, he 's murder'd! Flam. Do you turn your gall up? I 'll to sanctuary, And send a surgeon to you. [Exit. Enter Lodovico, Hortensio, and Gasparo Hort. How! o' th' ground!