University of Virginia Library

SCENE V.

NAPLES. Maximin. Stephen.
Maximin.
Among the idle and the fortunate
Never drops one but catafalc and canopy
Are ready for him: organ raves above,
And songsters wring their hands and push dull rhymes
Into dull ears that worse than wax hath stopt,
And cherubs puff their cheeks and cry half-split
With striding so across his monument.
Name me one honest man for whom such plays
Were ever acted.
They will ne'er lay Otho
With kindred clay! no helm, no boot beside
His hurried bier! no stamp of stately soldier
Angry with grief and swearing hot revenge,
Until even the paid priest turns round and winks.
I will away: sick, weary . .

(Stephen enters.)
Stephen.
Hast thou heard
The saddest thing?

Maximin.
Heard it? . . committed it,
Say rather. But for thee and thy curst gold,
Which, like magician's, turns to dust, I trow,
I had received him in the gate, and brought
The treasure of his soul before his eyes:
He had not closed them so.

Stephen.
Worst of it all
Is the queen's death.

Maximin.
The queen's?

Stephen.
They stifled her
With her own pillow.

Maximin.
Who says that?

Stephen.
The man
Runs wild who did it, through the streets, and howls it,
Then imitates her voice, and softly sobs
“Lay me in Santa Chiara.”