Flam. Remember this, you slave; when knaves come to preferment, they
rise as gallows in the Low Countries, one upon another's shoulders.
[Exeunt. Monticelso, Camillo, and Francisco come forward.


Mont. Here is an emblem, nephew, pray peruse it:
'Twas thrown in at your window.


Cam. At my window!
Here is a stag, my lord, hath shed his horns,
And, for the loss of them, the poor beast weeps:
The word, Inopem me copia fecit.


Mont. That is,
Plenty of horns hath made him poor of horns.


Cam. What should this mean?


Mont. I 'll tell you; 'tis given out
You are a cuckold.


Cam. Is it given out so?
I had rather such reports as that, my lord,
Should keep within doors.