fasten the keen edge in his rank gall.        [Knocking within.]   How now! who knocks? More earthquakes? DUCHESS. I stand As if a mine beneath my feet were ready To be blown up. CARIOLA.         'Tis Bosola. DUCHESS. Away! O misery! methinks unjust actions Should wear these masks and curtains, and not we. You must instantly part hence:  I have fashion'd it already. Exit ANTONIO. Enter BOSOLA BOSOLA. The duke your brother is ta'en up in a whirlwind; Hath took horse, and 's rid post to Rome. DUCHESS. So late? BOSOLA. He told me, as he mounted into the saddle,   You were undone. DUCHESS. Indeed, I am very near it. BOSOLA. What 's the matter? DUCHESS. Antonio, the master of our household, Hath dealt so falsely with me in 's accounts. My brother stood engag'd with me for money Ta'en up of certain Neapolitan Jews, And Antonio lets the bonds be forfeit. BOSOLA. Strange!—[Aside.] This is cunning. DUCHESS. And hereupon My brother's bills at Naples are protested Against.—Call up our officers. BOSOLA. I shall. Exit.         [Re-enter ANTONIO]    DUCHESS. The place that you must fly to is Ancona:   Hire a house there; I 'll send after you My treasure and my jewels. Our weak safety Runs upon enginous wheels:[82] short syllables Must stand for periods. I must now accuse you Of such a feigned crime as Tasso calls Magnanima menzogna, a noble lie,   'Cause it must shield our honours.—Hark! they are coming.         [Re-enter BOSOLA and Officers]    ANTONIO. Will your grace hear me? DUCHESS. I have got well by you; you have yielded me A million of loss:  I am like to inherit The people's curses for your stewardship. You had the trick in audit-time to be sick, Till I had sign'd your quietus;[83] and that cur'd you Without help of a doctor.—Gentlemen, I would have this man be an example to you all; So shall you hold my favour; I pray, let him;   For h'as done that, alas, you would not think of, And, because I intend to be rid of him, I mean not to publish.—Use your fortune elsewhere. ANTONIO. I am strongly arm'd to brook my overthrow, As commonly men bear with a hard year. I will not blame the cause on 't; but do think The necessity of my malevolent star Procures this, not her humour. O, the inconstant And rotten ground of service! You may see,   'Tis even like him, that in a winter night, Takes a long slumber o'er a dying fire, A-loth to part from 't; yet parts thence as cold As when he first sat down. DUCHESS. We do confiscate, Towards the satisfying of your accounts, All that 

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