have you steal to her chamber about midnight.
Cam. Do you think so? why look you, brother, because you shall not say I 'll gull you, take the key, lock me into the chamber, and say you shall be sure of me.
Flam. In troth I will; I 'll be your jailor once.
Cam. A pox on 't, as I am a Christian! tell me to-morrow how scurvily she takes my unkind parting.
Flam. I will.
Cam. Didst thou not mark the jest of the silkworm? Good-night; in faith, I will use this trick often.
Flam. Do, do, do. [Exit Camillo. So, now you are safe. Ha, ha, ha, thou entanglest thyself in thine own work like a silkworm. [Enter Brachiano.] Come, sister, darkness hides your blush. Women are like cursed dogs: civility keeps them tied all daytime, but they are let loose at midnight; then they do most good, or most mischief. My lord, my lord!
Zanche brings out a carpet, spreads it, and lays on it two fair cushions. Enter Cornelia listening, but unperceived.
Brach. Give credit: I could wish