I have houses,
Jewels, and a poor remnant of crusadoes;
Would those would make you charitable!
Mont. If the devil
Did ever take good shape, behold his picture.
Vit. You have one virtue left,
You will not flatter me.
Fran. Who brought this letter?
Vit. I am not compell'd to tell you.
Mont. My lord duke sent to you a thousand ducats
The twelfth of August.
Vit. 'Twas to keep your cousin
From prison; I paid use for 't.
Mont. I rather think,
'Twas interest for his lust.
Vit. Who says so but yourself?
If you be my accuser,
Pray cease to be my judge: come from the bench;
Give in your evidence 'gainst me, and let these
Be moderators. My lord cardinal,
Were your intelligencing ears as loving
As to my thoughts, had you an honest tongue,
I would not care though you proclaim'd them all.
Mont. Go to, go to.
After your goodly and vainglorious banquet,
I 'll give you a choke-pear.
Vit. O' your own grafting?
Mont. You were born in Venice, honourably descended
From the Vittelli: 'twas my cousin's fate,
Ill may I name the hour, to marry you;
He bought you of your father.
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