_Flam._ The duchess come to court! I like not that. We are engaged to mischief, and must on: As rivers to find out the ocean Flow with crook bendings beneath forcèd banks; Or as we see, to aspire some mountain's top, The way ascends not straight, but imitates The subtle foldings of a winter snake; So who knows policy and her true aspect, Shall find her ways winding and indirect. [_Exit._ ACT THE SECOND. SCENE I.--_A Room in_ FRANCISCO'S _Palace._ _Enter_ FRANCISCO DE MEDICIS, Cardinal MONTICELSO, MARCELLO, ISABELLA, GIOVANNI, _with_ JAQUES _the Moor._ _Fran. de Med._ Have you not seen your husband since you arrived? _Isab._ Not yet, sir. _Fran. de Med._ Surely he is wondrous kind: If I had such a dove-house as Camillo's, I would set fire on't, were't but to destroy The pole-cats that haunt to it.--My sweet cousin! _Giov._ Lord uncle, you did promise me a horse And armour. _Fran. de Med._ That I did, my pretty cousin.-- Marcello, see it fitted. _Mar._ My lord, the duke is here. _Fran. de Med._ Sister, away! you must not yet be seen. _Isab._ I do beseech you, Entreat him mildly; let not your rough tongue Set us at louder variance: all my wrongs Are freely pardoned; and I do not doubt, As men, to try the precious unicorn's horn,[32] Make of the powder a preservative circle, And in it put a spider, so these arms Shall charm his poison, force it to obeying, And keep him chaste from an infected straying. _Fran. de Med._ I wish it may. Be gone, void the chamber. [_Exeunt_ ISABELLA, GIOVANNI, _and_ JAQUES. _Enter_ BRACHIANO _and_ FLAMINEO. You are welcome: will you sit?--I pray, my lord, Be you my orator, my heart's too full; I'll second you anon. _Mont._ Ere I begin, Let me entreat your grace forego all passion, Which may be raisèd by my free discourse. _Brach._ As silent as i' the church: you may proceed. _Mont._ It is a wonder to your noble friends, That you, having, as 'twere, entered the world With a free sceptre in your able hand, And to the use of nature well applied High gifts of learning, should in your prime age Neglect your awful throne for the soft down Of an insatiate bed. O, my lord, The drunkard after all his lavish cups Is dry, and then is sober; so at length, When you awake from this lascivious dream, Repentance then will follow, like the sting Placed in the adder's tail. Wretched are princes When fortune blasteth but a petty flower Of their unwieldy crowns, or ravisheth But one pearl from their sceptres: but, alas, When they to wilful shipwreck lose good fame, All princely titles perish with their name. _Brach._ You have said, my lord. _Mont._ Enough to give you taste How far I am from flattering your greatness. _Brach._ Now you that are his second, what say you? Do not like young hawks fetch a course about: Your game flies fair and for you.