_Car._ Noble my lord, most fortunately welcome: [_The_ Conspirators _here embrace._ You have our vows, sealed with the sacrament, To second your attempts. _Ped._ And all things ready: He could not have invented his own ruin (Had he despaired) with more propriety. _Lod._ You would not take my way. _Fran. de Med._ 'Tis better ordered. _Lod._ To have poisoned his prayer-book, or a pair of beads, The pummel of his saddle,[80] his looking-glass, Or the handle of his racket,--O, that, that! That while he had been bandying at tennis, He might have sworn himself to hell, and strook His soul into the hazard! O, my lord, I would have our plot be ingenious, And have it hereafter recorded for example, Rather than borrow example. _Fran. de Med._ There's no way More speeding than this thought on. _Lod._ On, then. _Fran. de Med._ And yet methinks that this revenge is poor, Because it steals upon him like a thief. To have ta'en him by the casque in a pitched field, Led him to Florence!-- _Lod._ It had been rare: and there Have crowned him with a wreath of stinking garlic, To have shown the sharpness of his government And rankness of his lust.--Flamineo comes. [_Exeunt_ LODOVICO, ANTONELLI, GASPARO, FARNESE, CARLO, _and_ PEDRO. _Re-enter_ FLAMINEO, MARCELLO, _and_ ZANCHE. _Mar._ Why doth this devil haunt you, say? _Flam._ I know not; For, by this light, I do not conjure for her. 'Tis not so great a cunning as men think, To raise the devil; for here's one up already: The greatest cunning were to lay him down. _Mar._ She is your shame. _Flam._ I prithee, pardon her. In faith, you see, women are like to burs, Where their affection throws them, there they'll stick. _Zan._ That is my countryman, a goodly person: When he's at leisure, I'll discourse with him In our own language. _Flam._ I beseech you do. [_Exit_ ZANCHE. How is't, brave soldier? O, that I had seen Some of your iron days! I pray, relate Some of your service to us. _Fran. de Med._ 'Tis a ridiculous thing for a man to be his own chronicle: I did never wash my mouth with mine own praise for fear of getting a stinking breath. _Mar._ You're too stoical. The duke will expect other discourse from you. _Fran. de Med._ I shall never flatter him: I have studied man too much to do that. What difference is between the duke and I? no more than between two bricks, all made of one clay: only 't may be one is placed on the top of a turret, the other in the bottom of a well, by mere chance. If I were placed as high as the duke, I should stick as fast, make as fair a show, and bear out weather equally. _Flam._ [_Aside_]. If this soldier had a patent to beg in churches, then he would tell them stories. _Mar._ I have been a soldier too. _Fran. de Med._ How have you thrived? _Mar._ Faith, poorly.