_Bos._ Why to know the trick how to make a many lines meet in one centre. Go, go, give your foster-daughters good counsel: tell them, that the devil takes delight to hang at a woman's girdle, like a false rusty watch, that she cannot discern how the time passes. [_Exit_ Old Lady. _Enter_ ANTONIO, RODERIGO, _and_ GRISOLAN. _Ant._ Shut up the court-gates. _Rod._ Why, sir? what's the danger? _Ant._ Shut up the posterns presently, and call All the officers o' the court. _Gris._ I shall instantly. [_Exit._ _Ant._ Who keeps the key o' the park-gate? _Rod._ Forobosco. _Ant._ Let him bring't presently. _Re-enter_ GRISOLAN _with_ Servants. _1st Serv._ O, gentlemen o' the court, the foulest treason! _Bos._ [_Aside._] If that these apricocks should be poisoned now, Without my knowledge! _1st Serv._ There was taken even now a Switzer in the duchess' bed chamber-- _2nd Serv._ A Switzer! _1st Serv._ With a pistol in his great cod-piece. _Bos._ Ha, ha, ha! _1st Serv._ The cod-piece was the case for't. _2nd Serv._ There was a cunning traitor: who would have searched his cod-piece? _1st Serv._ True, if he had kept out of the ladies' chambers: and all the moulds of his buttons were leaden bullets. _2nd Serv._ O wicked cannibal! a fire-lock in's cod-piece! _1st Serv._ 'Twas a French plot, upon my life. _2nd Serv._ To see what the devil can do! _Ant._ Are all the officers here? _Servants._ We are. _Ant._ Gentlemen, We have lost much plate you know; and but this evening Jewels, to the value of four thousand ducats, Are missing in the duchess' cabinet. Are the gates shut? _Serv._ Yes. _Ant._ 'Tis the duchess' pleasure Each officer be locked into his chamber Till the sun-rising; and to send the keys Of all their chests and of their outward doors Into her bed-chamber. She is very sick. _Rod._ At her pleasure. _Ant._ She entreats you take't not ill: the innocent Shall be the more approved by it. _Bos._ Gentleman o' the wood-yard, where's your Switzer now? _1st Serv._ By this hand, 'twas credibly reported by one o' the black guard.[120] [_Exeunt all except_ ANTONIO _and_ DELIO. _Delio._ How fares it with the duchess? _Ant._ She's exposed Unto the worst of torture, pain and fear. _Delio._ Speak to her all happy comfort. _Ant._ How I do play the fool with mine own danger! You are this night, dear friend, to post to Rome: My life lies in your service. _Delio._ Do not doubt me. _Ant._ O, 'tis far from me: and yet fear presents me Somewhat that looks like danger.