Brach. Excellent creature!
We call the cruel fair; what name for you
That are so merciful?


Zan. See now they close.


Flam. Most happy union.


Corn. [Aside.] My fears are fall'n upon me: oh, my heart!
My son the pander! now I find our house
Sinking to ruin. Earthquakes leave behind,
Where they have tyranniz'd, iron, or lead, or stone;
But woe to ruin, violent lust leaves none.


Brach. What value is this jewel?


Vit. 'Tis the ornament of a weak fortune.


Brach. In sooth, I 'll have it; nay, I will but change
My jewel for your jewel.


Flam. Excellent;