The Duchess of Malfi. Webster John

      BOSOLA. So, so, there 's no question but her techiness46 and most vulturous eating of the apricocks are apparent signs

      of breeding, now?

        OLD LADY.  I am in haste, sir.

      BOSOLA. There was a young waiting-woman had a monstrous desire

      to see the glass-house —

        OLD LADY.  Nay, pray, let me go.  I will hear no more

        of the glass-house.  You are still47 abusing women!

      BOSOLA. Who, I? No; only, by the way now and then, mention your

      frailties. The orange-tree bears ripe and green fruit and blossoms

      all together; and some of you give entertainment for pure love,

      but more for more precious reward. The lusty spring smells well;

      but drooping autumn tastes well. If we have the same golden showers

      that rained in the time of Jupiter the thunderer, you have the same

      Danaes still, to hold up their laps to receive them. Didst thou

      never study the mathematics?

        OLD LADY.  What 's that, sir?

      BOSOLA. 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.

        ANTONIO.  Shut up the court-gates.

        RODERIGO.                           Why, sir?  What 's the danger?

        ANTONIO.  Shut up the posterns presently, and call

        All the officers o' th' court.

        GRISOLAN.                       I shall instantly.

        ANTONIO.  Who keeps the key o' th' park-gate?

        RODERIGO.                                      Forobosco.

        ANTONIO.  Let him bring 't presently.

        FIRST SERVANT.  O, gentleman o' th' court, the foulest treason!

        BOSOLA.  [Aside.] If that these apricocks should be poison'd now,

        Without my knowledge?

        FIRST SERVANT.

        There was taken even now a Switzer in the duchess' bed-chamber —

        SECOND SERVANT.  A Switzer!

        FIRST SERVANT.  With a pistol —

        SECOND SERVANT.  There was a cunning traitor!

        FIRST SERVANT.

        And all the moulds of his buttons were leaden bullets.

        SECOND SERVANT.  O wicked cannibal!

        FIRST SERVANT.  'Twas a French plot, upon my life.