the Dutchesse of Malfy.
As adultery: Sir, never was occasion
For perfect triall of my constancy
Till now: Sir, I beseech you.
Card.
You'll repent it.
Jul.
Never.
Card.
It hurries thee to ruine: I'll not tell thee,
Be well advis'd, and thinke what danger 'tis
To receive a Princes secrets: they that do,
Had neede have their breasts hoop'd with adamant
To containe them: I pray thee yet be satisfi'd,
Examine thine owne frailety, 'tis more easie
To tie knots, then unloose them: 'tis a secret
That (like a lingring poyson) may chance lie
Spread in thy vaines, and kill thee seaven yeare hence.
Jul.
Now you dally with me.
Card.
No more, thou shalt know it.
By my appointment, the great Duchesse of Malfy,
And two of her young children, foure nights since
Were strangled.
Jul.
Oh heaven! (sir) what have you done?
Card.
How now? how setles this? thinke you your
Bosome will be a grave, darke and obscure enough
For such a secret?
Jul.
You have undone your selfe (sir.)
Card.
Why?
Jul.
It lies not in me to conceale it.
Card.
No? come, I will sweare you to't upon this booke.
Jul.
Most religiously.
Card.
Kisse it.
Now you shall never utter it, thy curiosity
Hath undone thee: thou'rt poyson'd with that booke,
Because I knew thou couldst not keepe my councell,
I have bound the to't by death.
Bos.
For pitty sake, hold.
Card.
Ha, Bosola?
Jul.
I forgive you,
This equall peece of Justice you have done:
For I betraid your councell to that fellow,
He over heard it; that was the cause I said
It lay not in me, to conceale it.
Bos.
Oh foolish woman,
Couldst
