_Flam._ Can't be otherwise? Observed you not to-night, my honoured lord, Which way soe'er you went, she threw her eyes? I have dealt already with her chambermaid, Zanche the Moor; and she is wondrous proud To be the agent for so high a spirit. _Brach._ We are happy above thought, because 'bove merit. _Flam._ 'Bove merit!--we may now talk freely--'bove merit! What is't you doubt? her coyness? that's but the superficies of lust most women have: yet why should ladies blush to hear that named which they do not fear to handle? O, they are politic: they know our desire is increased by the difficulty of enjoying; whereas satiety is a blunt, weary, and drowsy passion. If the buttery-hatch at court stood continually open, there would be nothing so passionate crowding, nor hot suit after the beverage. _Brach._ O, but her jealous husband. _Flam._ Hang him! a gilder that hath his brains perished with quick-silver is not more cold in the liver: the great barriers moulted not more feathers[18] than he hath shed hairs, by the confession of his doctor: an Irish gamester that will play himself naked, and then wage all downwards at hazard, is not more venturous: so unable to please a woman, that, like a Dutch doublet, all his back is shrunk into his breeches. Shrowd you within this closet, good my lord: Some trick now must be thought on to divide My brother-in-law from his fair bedfellow. _Brach._ O, should she fail to come! _Flam._ I must not have your lordship thus unwisely amorous. I myself have loved a lady, and pursued her with a great deal of under-age protestation, whom some three or four gallants that have enjoyed would with all their hearts have been glad to have been rid of: 'tis just like a summer birdcage in a garden; the birds that are without despair to get in, and the birds that are within despair, and are in a consumption, for fear they shall never get out. Away, away, my lord! [_Exit_ BRACHIANO. See, here he comes. This fellow by his apparel Some men would judge a politician; But call his wit in question, you shall find it Merely an ass in's foot-cloth.[19] _Re-enter_ CAMILLO.[20] How now, brother! What, travelling to bed to your kind wife? _Cam._ I assure you, brother, no; my voyage lies More northerly, in a far colder clime: I do not well remember, I protest, When I last lay with her. _Flam._ Strange you should lose your count. _Cam._ We never lay together, but ere morning There grew a flaw[21] between us. _Flam._ 'Thad been your part To have made up that flaw. _Cam._ True, but she loathes I should be seen in't. _Flam._ Why, sir, what's the matter? _Cam._ The duke, your master, visits me, I thank him; And I perceive how, like an earnest bowler, He very passionately leans that way He should have his bowl run. _Flam._ I hope you do not think--