Hort. There 's some black deed on foot. I 'll presently
Down to the citadel, and raise some force.
These strong court-factions, that do brook no checks,
In the career oft break the riders' necks. [Exit.
SCENE VI
Enter Vittoria with a book in her hand, Zanche; Flamineo following them
Flam. What, are you at your prayers? Give o'er.
Vit. How, ruffian?
Flam. I come to you 'bout worldly business.
Sit down, sit down. Nay, stay, blowze, you may hear it:
The doors are fast enough.
Vit. Ha! are you drunk?
Flam. Yes, yes, with wormwood water; you shall taste
Some of it presently.
Vit. What intends the fury?
Flam. You are my lord's executrix; and I claim
Reward for my long service.
Vit. For your service!
Flam. Come, therefore, here is pen and ink, set down
What you will give me.
Vit. There. [She writes.
Flam. Ha! have you done already?
'Tis a most short conveyance.
Vit. I will read it:
I give that portion to thee, and no other,
Which Cain groan'd under, having slain his brother.
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