_Men._ I ha' forgot 'em. _Pietro._ Thou shalt die. _Men._ So shalt thou. I am heart-mad. _Pietro._ I am horn-mad. _Men._ Extreme mad. _Pietro._ Monstrously mad. _Men._ Why? 111 _Pietro._ Why! thou, thou hast dishonoured my bed. _Men._ I! Come, come, sit; here's my bare heart to thee, As steady as is the centre to this[394] glorious world: And yet, hark, thou art a cornuto,--but by me? _Pietro._ Yes, slave, by thee. _Men._ Do not, do not with tart and spleenful breath Lose him can lose thee. I offend my duke! Bear record, O ye dumb and raw-air'd nights, How vigilant my sleepless eyes have been 120 To watch the traitor! record, thou spirit of truth, With what debasement I ha' thrown myself To under offices, only to learn The truth, the party, time, the means, the place, By whom, and when, and where thou wert disgrac'd! And am I paid with slave? hath my intrusion To places private and prohibited, Only to observe the closer passages, Heaven knows with vows of revelation, Made me suspected, made me deem'd a villain? 130 What rogue hath wrong'd us? _Pietro._ Mendoza, I may err. _Men._ Err! 'tis too mild a name: but err and err, Run giddy with suspect, 'fore through me thou know That which most creatures, save thyself, do know: Nay, since my service hath so loath'd reject, 'Fore I'll reveal, shalt find them clipt together. _Pietro._ Mendoza, thou knowest I am a most plain-breasted man. _Men._ The fitter to make a cornuto:[395] would your brows were most plain too! 140 _Pietro._ Tell me: indeed, I heard thee rail-- _Men._ At women, true: why, what cold fleam[396] could choose, Knowing a lord so honest, virtuous, So boundless loving, bounteous, fair-shap'd, sweet, To be contemn'd, abus'd, defam'd, made cuckold? Heart! I hate all women for't: sweet sheets, wax lights, antic bedposts, cambric smocks, villainous curtains, arras pictures, oiled hinges, and all the[397] tongue-tied lascivious witnesses of great creatures' wantonness,--what salvation can you expect? 150 _Pietro._ Wilt thou tell me? _Men._ Why, you may find it yourself; observe, observe. _Pietro._ I ha' not the patience: wilt thou deserve me, tell, give it. _Men._ Take't: why, Ferneze is the man, Ferneze: I'll prove't; this night you shall take him in your sheets: will't serve? _Pietro._ It will; my bosom's in some peace: till night-- _Men._ What? _Pietro._ Farewell. _Men._ God! how weak a lord are you! 160 Why, do you think there is no more but so? _Pietro._ Why!