glass, only gives us a miserable knowledge of the small compass of our prison. Dutch. Am not I thy Dutchess? Bos. Thou art some great woman sure, for riot begins to sit on thy forehead (clad in grey hairs) twenty years sooner, than on a merry milk-maid's. Thou sleep'st worse, than if a mouse should be forced to take up his lodging in a cat's ear: a little infant, that breeds it's teeth, should it lie with thee, would cry out as if thou wert the more unquiet bed-fellow. Dutch. I am Dutchess of Malfy still. Bos. That makes thy sleep so broken: 'Glories, like glow worms, afar off, shine bright, Bos. My trade is to flatter the dead, not the living. Dutch. And thou com'st to make my tomb? Bos. Yes. Dutch. Let me be a little merry: Of what stuff wilt thou make it? Bos. Nay, resolve me first, of what fashio Dutch. Why, do we grow fantastical in our death-bed? Bos. Most ambitiously. Princes' images on their tombs, Up to heaven; but with their hands under their cheeks, Minds were wholly bent upon the world, The self-same way they seem to turn their faces. Dutch. Let me know fully therefore the effect Of this thy dismal preparation, This talk, fit for a charnel? Bos. Now, I shall: Here is a present from your princely brothers. And may it arrive welcome, for it brings Dutch. Let me see it, I have so much obedience in my blood, [a coffin, cords, and a bell. I wish it in their veins, to do them good. Dutch. Peace! it affrights not me. That usually is sent to condemn'd persons The night before they suffer. Dutch. Even now thou said'st Thou wast a tomb-maker? Bos. "Twas to bring you By degrees to mortification. Listen. The screetch-owl, and the whistler shrill, And bid her quickly don her shroud: Of what is't fools make such vain keeping? Their death a hideous storm of terror, "Tis now full tide 'tween night and day, Cari. Hence villains, tyrants, murderers alas! What will you do with my lady? Call for help. Dutch. To whom? to our next neighbours? they are mad folks. Farewell, Cariola. In my last will I have not much to give, A many hungry guests have fed on me ; Thine will be a poor reversion. Cari. I will die with her. Dutch. I pray thee look thou giv'st my little boy Some sirup for his cold, and let the girl Say her prayers, ere she sleep. Now what you please; Bos. Strangling; here are your executioners. The apoplexy, catarrh, or cough o'th' lungs, Bos. Does not death fright you? Dutch. Who would be afraid on't, Knowing to meet such excellent company In th' other world? Bos. Yet, methinks, The manner of your death should much afflict Dutch. Not a whit: you; What would it pleasure me, to have my throat cut With cassia? or to be shot to death with pearls? They go on such strange geometrical hinges, You may open them both ways; any way, (for heaven sake,) That I perceive death, (now I am well awake,) Best gift 'tis, they can give, or I can take. I would fain put off my last woman's fault, I'd not be tedious to you. Exec. We are ready. Dutch. Dispose my breath, how please you, but my body Bestow upon my women, will you? Exec. Yes. Dutch. Pull, and pull strongly, for your able strength Must pull down heaven upon me: Yet stay, heaven's gates are not so highly arch'd Must go upon their knees: come, violent death, Go tell my brothers when I am laid out, [they strangle her, kneeling. Of young wolves is never to be pitied. Bos. Fix your eye there. Fer. Constantly. Bos. Do you not weep? Other sins only speak; murder shrieks out: The element of water moistens the earth, But blood flies upwards, and bedews the heavens. Fer. Cover her face: mine dazzle: she died young. eyes Bos. I think not so: her infelicity Seem'd to have years too many. Fer. She and I were twins: And should I die this instant, I have liv'd Her time to a minute. Bos. It seems she was born first: You have bloodily approv'd the ancient truth, Fer. Let me see her face again; Why didst not thou pity her? what an excellent If thou hadst borne her to some sanctuary? I bade thee, when I was distracted of my wits, Bos. Do. Fer. I'll give thee a pardon for this murder. Fer. Yes; and 'tis The largest bounty I can study to do thee. By what authority didst thou execute This bloody service? Bos. By yours. Fer. Mine was I her judge?. Did any ceremonial form of law Doom her to not-being? did a complete jury Deliver her conviction up i'th' court? Where shalt thou find this judgement registered, Th' hast forfeited thy life, and thou shalt die for't. Fer. Oh, I'll tell thee; The wolf shall find her grave, and scrape it up, The horrid murder. Bos. You, not I, shall quake for't. Bos. I will first receive my pension. Fer. You are a villain. Bos. When your ingratitude Is judge, I am so. Fer. O horror! That not the fear of him which binds the devils, Can prescribe man obedience. Never look upon me more. Bos. Why, fare thee well: Your brother and yourself are worthy men; That long hath ta'en a sweet and golden dream; I'm angry Fer. Get thee into some unknown part o'th' world, That I may never see thee. Bos. Let me know Wherefore I should be thus neglected, sir? Fer. I'll go hunt the badger by owl-light: "Tis a deed of darkness. Bos. He's much distracted. Off, my painted honour ! While with vain hopes our faculties we tire, [exit. |