University of Virginia Library

SCENA. IIII.

Cardinall, Pescara, Malateste, Rodorigo, Grisolan, Bosola, Ferdinand, Antonio, Seruant.
Card.
You shall not watch to night by the sicke Prince,
His Grace is very well recouer'd.

Mal.
Good my Lord suffer vs.

Card.
Oh, by no meanes:
The noyce, and change of obiect in his eye,
Doth more distract him: I pray, all to bed,
And though you heare him in his violent fit,
Do not rise, I intreate you.

Pes.
So sir, we shall not,

Card.
Nay, I must haue you promise
Vpon your honors, for I was enioyn'd to't
By himselfe; and he seem'd to vrge it sencibly.

Pes.
Let out honors bind this trifle.

Card.
Nor any of your followers.

Mal.
Neither.

Card.
It may be to make triall of your promise
When he's a sleepe, my selfe will rise, and faigne
Some of his mad trickes, and crie out for helpe,
And faigne my selfe in danger.

Mal.
If your throate were cutting,
I'll'd not come at you, now I haue protested against it.

Card.
Why, I thanke you.

Gris.
'Twas a foule storme to night.

Rod.
The Lord Ferdinand's chamber, shooke like an Ozier.

Mal.
'Twas nothing but pure kindnesse in the Diuell,
To rocke his owne child.

Exeunt.
Card.
The reason why I would not suffer these
About my brother, is, because at midnight
I may with better priuacy, conuay
Iulias body, to her owne Lodging: O, my Conscience!
I would pray now: but the Diuell takes away my heart
For hauing any confidence in Praier.
About this houre, I appointed Bosola
To fetch the body: when he hath seru'd my turne,
He dies.

Exit.
Bos.
Hah? 'twas the Cardinalls voyce: I heard him name,
Bosola, and my death: listen, I heare ones footing.

Ferd.
Strangling is a very quiein death.

Bos.
Nay then I see, I must stand vpon my Guard.

Ferd.
What say' to that? whisper, softly: doe you agree to't?
So it must be done i'th' darke: the Cardinall
Would not for a thousand pounds, the Doctor should see it.

Exit.
Bos.
My death is plotted; here's the consequence of murther.
”We value not desert, nor Christian breath,
When we know blacke deedes, must be cur'de with death.

Ser.
Here stay Sir, and be confident, I pray:
I'll fetch you a darke Lanthorne.

Exit.
Ant.
Could I take him at his prayers,
There were hope of pardon.

Bos.
Fall right my sword:
I'll not giue thee so much leysure, as to pray.

Ant.
Oh, I am gone: Thou hast ended a long suit,
In a mynut.

Bos.
What art thou?

Ant.
A most wretched thing,
That onely haue thy benefit in death,
To appeare my selfe.

Ser.
Where are you Sir?

Ant.
Very neere my home: Bosola?

Ser.
Oh misfortune.

Bos.
Smother thy pitty, thou art dead else: Antonio?
The man I would haue sau'de 'boue mine owne life?
We are meerely the Starres tennys-balls (strooke, and banded
Which way please them) oh good Antonio,
I'll whisper one thing in thy dying eare,
Shall make thy heart breake quickly: Thy faire Dutchesse
And two sweet Children.

Ant.
Their very names
Kindle a litle life in me.

Bos.
Are murderd!

Ant.
Some men haue wish'd to die.
At the hearing of sad tydings: I am glad
That I shall do't in sadnes: I would not now
Wish my wounds balm'de, nor heal'd: for I haue no vse
To put my life to: In all our Quest of Greatnes;
(Like wanton Boyes, whose pastime is their care)
We follow after bubbles, blowne in th'ayre.
Pleasure of life, what is't? onely the good houres
Of an Ague: meerely a preparatiue to rest,
To endure vexation: I doe not aske
The processe of my death: onely commend me
To Delio.

Bos.
Breake heart:

Ant.
And let my Sonne, flie the Courts of Princes.

Bos.
Thou seem'st to haue lou'd Antonio?

Ser.
I brought him hether,
To haue reconcil'd him to the Cardinall.

Bos.
I doe not aske thee that:
Take him vp, if thou tender thine owne life,
And beare him, where the Lady Iulia
Was wont to lodge: Oh, my fate moues swift.
I haue this Cardinall, in the forge already,
Now I'll bring him to th'hammer: (O direfull misprision:)
I will not Imitate things glorious,
No more then base: I'll be mine owne example.
On, on: and looke thou represent, for silence,
The thing thou bear'st.

Exeunt.