I beat her.

Regent. But neglect! How came you to neglect her? Look on her— The handsome, frowsy slut, that, by appearance, Hath never washed her body since she wed. A beating we might pass. But how neglect To take her by the neck unto the pump And hold her till her wet and furious face Were once again worth kissing? Well—well—well! Neglect is proven. She shall have deserts: (To a Clerk) But—write, "Defendant keeps his lawful child."

Young Peasant. My lady—

Wife. Nay, my lady—

Regent. Eh? What's this?

Wife. The poor bambino! Nay, 'twas not the suit! How should Giuseppe, being a fool, a man—

Young Peasant. Aye, aye: that's sense. I love him: still, you see—

Regent. An if my judgment suit you not, go home, The pair. (As they are going she calls the woman back.) Costanza! hath your husband erred With other woman?

Costanza! hath your husband erred

Young Peasant. Never!

Wife. I'll not charge him With that.

Regent. But, yes, you may. This man hath held Another woman to his breast.

Wife. Her name? That I may tear her eyes!

Regent. Her name's Costanza. The same Costanza that, with body washed, With ribbon in her hair, light in her eyes, Arrayed a cottage to allure his heart. Go home, poor fools, and find her!... Heigh! No others? [Heaves a sigh. Captain, dismiss the Guard. The watch, aloft— Set him elsewhere. We would not be o'erlooked. You only, Lucio—you, Lucetta—stay; You for a while, Cesario.

Heigh! No others? [Heaves a sigh.

[Exeunt Courtiers, Guard, Crowd, etc.

Heigh! that's over— The last Court of the Regent; and the books Accounts of stewardship, my seven years all, Closed here for audit. Nay, there's one thing more— Brother, erewhile I spoke you sisterly, You turned away, and still you bite your lip: Signs that may short my preface. It concerns The Countess Fulvia.

Nay, there's one thing more—

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