Fran. I 'll think on the motion.
Zan. Do; I 'll now detain you no longer. At your better leisure, I 'll
tell you things shall startle your blood:
Nor blame me that this passion I reveal;
Lovers die inward that their flames conceal.
Fran. Of all intelligence this may prove the best:
Sure I shall draw strange fowl from this foul nest. [Exeunt.
SCENE II
Enter Marcello and Cornelia
Corn. I hear a whispering all about the court,
You are to fight: who is your opposite?
What is the quarrel?
Marc. 'Tis an idle rumour.
Corn. Will you dissemble? sure you do not well
To fright me thus: you never look thus pale,
But when you are most angry. I do charge you,
Upon my blessing--nay, I 'll call the duke,
And he shall school you.
Marc. Publish not a fear,
Which would convert to laughter: 'tis not so.
Was not this crucifix my father's?
Corn. Yes.
Marc. I have heard you say, giving my brother suck
He took the crucifix between his hands, [Enter Flamineo.
And broke a limb off.
Corn. Yes, but 'tis mended.
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