_Bos._ Doth he study physiognomy? There's no more credit to be given to the face Than to a sick man's urine, which some call The physician's whore because she cozens him. He did suspect me wrongfully. _Ferd._ For that You must give great men leave to take their times. Distrust doth cause us seldom be deceived: You see the oft shaking of the cedar-tree Fastens it more at root. _Bos._ Yet, take heed; For to suspect a friend unworthily Instructs him the next way to suspect you, And prompts him to deceive you. _Ferd._ There's gold. _Bos._ So: What follows? never rained such showers as these Without thunderbolts i' the tail of them: whose throat must I cut? _Ferd._ Your inclination to shed blood rides post Before my occasion to use you. I give you that To live i' the court here, and observe the duchess; To note all the particulars of her haviour,[106] What suitors do solicit her for marriage, And whom she best affects. She's a young widow: I would not have her marry again. _Bos._ No, sir? _Ferd._ Do not you ask the reason; but be satisfied I say I would not. _Bos._ It seems you would create me One of your familiars. _Ferd._ Familiar! what's that? _Bos._ Why, a very quaint invisible devil in flesh, An intelligencer. _Ferd._ Such a kind of thriving thing I would wish thee; and ere long thou mayest arrive At a higher place by't. _Bos._ Take your devils, Which hell calls angels; these cursed gifts would make You a corrupter, me an impudent traitor; And should I take these, they'd take me to hell. _Ferd._ Sir, I'll take nothing from you that I have given: There is a place that I procured for you This morning, the provisorship o' the horse; Have you heard on't? _Bos._ No. _Ferd._ 'Tis yours: is't not worth thanks? _Bos._ I would have you curse yourself now, that your bounty (Which makes men truly noble) e'er should make me A villain. O, that to avoid ingratitude For the good deed you have done me, I must do All the ill man can invent! Thus the devil Candies all sins o'er; and what Heaven terms vile, That names he complimental.[107] _Ferd._ Be yourself; Keep your old garb of melancholy; 'twill express You envy those that stand above your reach, Yet strive not to come near 'em: this will gain Access to private lodgings, where yourself May, like a politic dormouse-- _Bos._ As I have seen some Feed in a lord's dish, half asleep, not seeming To listen to any talk; and yet these rogues Have cut his throat in a dream. What's my place? The provisorship o' the horse? say, then, my corruption Grew out of horse-dung: I am your creature. _Ferd._ Away! _Bos._ Let good men, for good deeds, covet good fame, Since place and riches oft are bribes of shame: Sometimes the devil doth preach. [_Exit._ _Re-enter_ DUCHESS, Cardinal, _and_ CARIOLA.