_Mont._ Why, that was it; To what scorned purpose else should we make choice Of him for a sea-captain? and, besides, Count Lodowick, which was rumoured for a pirate, Is now in Padua. _Fran. de Med._ Is't true? _Mont._ Most certain. I have letters from him, which are suppliant To work his quick repeal from banishment: He means to address himself for pension Unto our sister duchess. _Fran. de Med._ O, 'twas well: We shall not want his absence past six days. I fain would have the Duke Brachiano run Into notorious scandal; for there's naught In such cursed dotage to repair his name, Only the deep sense of some deathless shame. _Mont._ It may be objected, I am dishonourable To play thus with my kinsman; but I answer, For my revenge I'd stake a brother's life, That, being wronged, durst not avenge himself. _Fran. de Med._ Come, to observe this strumpet. _Mont._ Curse of greatness! Sure he'll not leave her? _Fran. de Med._ There's small pity in't: Like misletoe on sear elms spent by weather, Let him cleave to her, and both rot together. [_Exeunt._ SCENE III.--_A Room in the House of_ CAMILLO. _Enter_ BRACHIANO, _with a_ Conjurer. _Brach._ Now, sir, I claim your promise: 'tis dead midnight, The time prefixed to show me, by your art, How the intended murder of Camillo And our loathed duchess grow to action. _Con._ You have won me by your bounty to a deed I do not often practise. Some there are Which by sophistic tricks aspire that name, Which I would gladly lose, of necromancer; As some that use to juggle upon cards, Seeming to conjure, when indeed they cheat; Others that raise up their confederate spirits 'Bout wind-mills, and endanger their own necks For making of a squib; and some there are Will keep a curtal[42] to show juggling tricks, And give out 'tis a spirit: besides these, Such a whole realm of almanac-makers, figure-flingers, Fellows, indeed, that only live by stealth, Since they do merely lie about stol'n goods, They'd make men think the devil were fast and loose, With speaking fustian Latin. Pray, sit down: Put on this night-cap, sir, 'tis charmed; and now I'll show you, by my strong commanding art, The circumstance that breaks your duchess' heart. A DUMB SHOW. _Enter suspiciously_ JULIO _and_ CHRISTOPHERO: _they draw a curtain where_ BRACHIANO'S _picture is, put on spectacles of glass, which cover their eyes and noses, and then burn perfumes before the picture, and wash the lips; that done, quenching the fire, and putting off their spectacles, they depart laughing._