Vit. Am I not low enough? Ay, ay, your good heart gathers like a snowball, Now your affection 's cold.
Flam. Ud's foot, it shall melt To a heart again, or all the wine in Rome Shall run o' th' lees for 't.
Vit. Your dog or hawk should be rewarded better Than I have been. I 'll speak not one word more.
Flam. Stop her mouth With a sweet kiss, my lord. So, Now the tide 's turn'd, the vessel 's come about. He 's a sweet armful. Oh, we curl-hair'd men Are still most kind to women! This is well.
Flam. Oh, sir, your little chimneys Do ever cast most smoke! I sweat for you. Couple together with as deep a silence, As did the Grecians in their wooden horse. My lord, supply your promises with deeds; You know that painted meat no hunger feeds.
Flam. Rome! it deserve to be call'd Barbary, For our villainous usage.
Brach. Soft; the same project which the Duke of Florence, (Whether in love or gallery I know not) Laid down for her escape, will I pursue.
Flam. And no time fitter than this night, my lord. The Pope being dead, and all the cardinals enter'd The conclave, for th' electing a new Pope; The city in a great confusion; We may attire her in a page's suit, Lay her post-horse, take shipping, and amain For Padua.
Brach. I 'll instantly steal forth the Prince Giovanni, And make for Padua. You two with your old mother, And young Marcello that attends on Florence, If you can work him to it, follow me: I will advance you all; for you, Vittoria, Think of a duchess' title.
Flam. Lo you, sister! Stay, my lord; I 'll tell you a tale. The crocodile, which lives in the River Nilus, hath a worm breeds i' th' teeth of 't, which puts it to extreme anguish: a little bird, no bigger than a wren, is barber-surgeon to this crocodile; flies into the jaws of 't, picks out the worm, and brings present remedy. The fish, glad of ease, but ungrateful to her that did it, that the bird may not talk largely of her abroad for non-payment, closeth her chaps, intending to swallow her, and so put her to perpetual silence. But nature, loathing such ingratitude, hath armed this bird with a quill or prick on the head, top o' th' which wounds the crocodile i' th' mouth, forceth her open her bloody prison, and away flies the pretty tooth-picker from her cruel patient.