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Str. I would have told you, if the incubus fiddlers for striking up a fresh hornpipe. Saint That rides your bosom would have patience. Ursula, I was even going to bed, and you, men It is reported that, in private state,

thought, my husband, was even putting out the Maria, Genoa's duchess, makes to court,

tapers, when you, Lord-I shall never bave such
Longing to see him, whom she ne'er shall see, a dream come upon me as long as-
Her lord Andrugio. Belike she hath receiv'd Mar. Peace, idle creature, peace!
The news of reconciliation:

When will the court rise ?
Reconciliation with a death?

Lu. Madam, 'twero best you took some lodging Poor lady, shall but find poor comfort in't.

up
Pie. Oh, let me swoon for joy. By heaven, I And lay in private till the soil of grief
think

Wero clear'd your cheek, and new burnish'd
I ha' said my prayers, within this month at least; lustre
I am so boundless happy. Doth she come? Cloth'd your presence, 'fore you saw the dukes,
By this warm reeking gore, I'll marry her. And enter'd 'mong the proud Venetian States.
Look I not now like an inamorate ?

Mar. No, Lucio, my dear lord's wise, and
Poison the father, butcher the son, and marry the knows
mother, ha!

That tinsel glitter, or rich purfledi robes,
Strotzo, to bed: snort in securest sleep;

Curled hairs hung full of sparkling carcanets,"
For see, the dapple grey coursers of the morn Are not the true adornments of a wife.
Beat up the light with their bright silver hooves, So long as wives are faithful, modest, chaste,
And chase it through the sky. To bed, to bed! Wise lords affect them. Virtue doth not waste,
This morn my vengeance shall be amply fed. With each slight flame of crackling vanity.

[Exit. A modest eye forceth affection,

Whilst outward gayness light looks but entice.

Fairer than nature's fair is foulest vice.
ACT 1.-SCENE II.

She that loves art to get her cheek more lovers,

Much outward gauds slight inward grace dis-
Enter Lucio, MARIA, and NUTRICE.
Mar. Stay, gentle Lucio, and vouchsafe thy I care not to seem fair but to my lord.
hand.

Those that strive most to please most strangers'
Lu. Oh, madam

sight, Mar. Nay, pr’ythee give me leave to say, Folly may judge most fair, wisdom most light. vouchsafe;

[Music sounds a short strjit. Submiss 1 intreats beseem my humble fate.

But hark, soft music gently moves the air : Here let us sit. O Lucio, fortune's gilt

I think the bridegroom's up. Lucio, stand close. Is rubb'd quite off from my slight tin-foild state,

Oh now, Maria, challenge grief to stay
And poor Maria must appear ungrac'd

Thy joy's encounter. Look, Lucio, 'uis clear dag.
Of the bright fulgor of gloss'd majesty:
Lu. Cheer up your spirits, madam, fairer
chance

ACT I.-SCENE III.
Than that which courts your presence instantly
Cannot be formed by the quick mould of thought. Enter ANTONIO, GALEATZO, MATZAGENTE BA-

Mar. Art thou assur'd the dukes are reconcil'd ? LURDO, PANDULPHO FELICE, ALBERTO,
Shall my womb's honour wed fair Mellida?

FOROBOSCO, CASTILIO, and a Page.
Will Heaven at length grant harbour to my head?
Shall I once more clip my Andrugio,

Ant. Darkness is fled: look, infant morn hath

drawn And wreath my arms about Antonio's neck? Or is glib rumour grown a parasite,

Bright silver curtains 'bout the couch of night; Holding a false glass to my sorrow's eyes,

And now Aurora's horse trots azure rings, Making the wrinkl'd front of grief seem fair,

Breathing fair light about the firmament.

Stand! what's that?
Though 'tis much riveld 2 with abortive care?.
Lu. Most virtuous princess, banish straggling I would pass on him with a mortal stroke.

Mat. And if a horned devil should burst forth.
fear,
Keep league with comfort; for these eyes beheld Unto a bridegroom's eyes.

Alb. Oh, a horned devil would prove ominous
The dukes united ; yon faint glimmering light
Ne'er peeped through the crannies of the east,

Mat. A horned devil ? Good. Ha, ha, ha! -
Since I be held them drink a sound carouse

very good!

Alb. Good tann'd prince, laugh not. By the
In sparkling Bacchus
Unto each other's health;

joys of love,

When thou dost girn, thy rusty face doth look
Your son assur'd to beauteous Mellida,

Like the head of a roasted rabbit: fie upon't.
And all clouds clear'd of threatening discontent.
Mar. What age is morning of ?

Bal. By my troth, methinks his nose is just

colour de roy. Lu. I think 'bout five, Mar. Nutrice, Nutrice!

Mat. I tell thee, fool, my pose will abido no Nut. Beshrew your fingers ; marry, you have

jest. disturb'd the pleasure of the finest dream. O

Bal. No, in truth, I do not jest; I speak truth. God! I was even coming to it, la.

Truth is the touchstone of all things; and if

0 Jesu! 'twas coming of the sweetest. I'll tell you now :

your nose will not abide the truth, your nose will

not abide the touch ; and if your nose will 00: methought I was married, and methought I -pont (O Lord, why did you wako me ?), -and abide the touch, your dose is a copper nose, and

must be nail'd up for a slip. methought I spent three spur-royalss on the

1 pursted-ornamented with trimmings or embroidery.

2 carcanets properly means jewelled necklaces, or 1 submiss_bmissive.

chains; here it may mean simply jewels. ! rivell-wrinkled,

3 colour de roy--? red. spor swyal WA* gold coin worth about 158, ; it had + slip-a piece of counterfeit cupper moner, sasket A star on the reverse', l'esembling the lonel of a spur. over with silver or gold.-HALLIWELL.

groom sad!

see

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you, bloods !

Mat. I scorn to retort the obtuse jest of a fool, Ant. I pr’vthee, peace. I tell you, gentlemen, [BALURDO draws out his writing tables, and The frightful shades of night yet shake my brain : writes.

My jellied' blood's not thaw'd: the sulphur Bal. Retort and obtuse; good words, very good damps, words.

That flow in winged lightning 'bout my couch, Gal. Young prince, look sprightly; fie, a bride- Yet stick within my sense, my soul is great

In expectation of dire prodigies. Bal. In truth, if he were retort, and obtuse, no Pan. Tut, my young prince, let not thy fortunes question he would be merry; but and please my genius, I will be most retort and obtuse ere night. Their lord a coward. He that's nobly born I'll tell you what I'll bear soon at night in my Abhors to fear. Base fear's the brand of slaves. shield for my device.

He that observes, pursues, slinks back for fright, Gal. What, good Balurdo ?

Was never cast in mould of noble sprite. Bal. Oh, do me right, Sir Gefferey Balurdo; Gal. Tush, there's a sun will straight exhale sir, sir, as long as ye live, sir.

these damps Gal. What, good Sir Gefferey Balurdo? Of chilling fear. Come, shall's salute the bride ?

Bal. Marry, forsooth, I'll carry for my device Ant. Castilio, I pr’ythee mix thy breath with his: my grandfather's great stone horse, flinging up Sing one of Signior Renaldo's airs, his head, and jerking out his left leg. The word To rouse the slumbering bride from gluttoning

Wighy Purt, as I am a true knight, will't not In surfeit of superfluous sleep. Good signior, be most retort and obtuse, ha ?

sing.

[They sing. Ant. Blow hence these sapless jests. I tell What means this silence and unmoved calm!

Boy, wind thy cornet; force the leaden gatos [y spirit's heavy, and the juice of life

Of lazy sleep fly open, with thy breath. Creeps slowly through my stiffen'd arteries. My Mellida not up? nor stirring yet? umh! Last sleep, my sense was steep'd in horrid Mar. That voice should be my son Antonio's. dreams;

Antonio! Three parts of night were swallow'd in the gulf Ant. Here, who calls? here stands Antonio. Of ravenous time, when to my slumbering Mar. Sweet son. powers,

Ant. Dear mother. Two meagre ghosts made apparition.

Mar. Fair honour of a chaste and loyal bed, The one's breast seemed fresh punch'd with Thy father's beauty, thy sad mother's love, bleeding wounds,

Were I as powerful as the voice of fate, Whose bubbling gore sprang in frighted eyes ; Felicity complete should sweet thy state ; The other ghost assured my father's shape : But all the blessings that a poor banish'd wretch Both cried, 'Revenge!' At which my trembling Can pour upon thy head, take, gentle son: joints

Live, gracious youth, to close thy mother's eyes, (Iced quite over with a froz'd cold sweat) Lov'd of thy parents till their latest hour : Leap'd forth the sheets. Three times Í grasp'd How cheers my lord, thy father? O sweet boy, at shades;

Part of him thus I clip, my dear, dear joy. And thrice, deluded by erroneous sense,

Ant. Madam, last night I kissed his princely I forc'd my thoughts make stand—when lo! hand, topp'd

And took a treasur'd blessing from his lips : 1 large bay window, through which the night Oh mother, you arrive in jubilee, struck terror to my soul. The verge of heaven And firm atonement of all boist'rous rage; Was ring'd with flames, and all the upper vault Pleasure, united love, protested faith, Thick lac'd with flakes of fire, in midst whereof Guard my lov'd father, as sworn pensioners. i blazing comet shot his threat'ning train The dukes are leagu'd in firmest bond of love, Just on my face. Viewing these prodigies, And you arrive even in the solsticio 1 bow'd my naked knee, and pierc'd the star And highest point of sunshine happiness. With an outfacing eye; pronouncing thus:

[One winds a cornet within. Deus imperat astris.. At which my nose straight Hark, madam, how yon cornet jerketh up bled;

His strain'd shrill accents in the capering air, Then doubl'd I my word, so slunk to bed. As proud to summon up my bright-cheek'd love!

Bal. Verily, Sir Gefferey had a monstrous Now, mother, ope wide expectation; strange dream the last night. For methought I Let loose your amplest sense, to entertain dreamt I was asleep, and methought the ground Th'impression of an object of such worth, yawnd and belkts up the abhominable* ghost of That life's too poor to. a misshapen simile, with two ugly pages; the Gal. Nay, leave hyperboles. one called master, even as going before; and the Ant. I tell thee, prince, that presence straight other mounser, oven so following after; whilst appears, Signior Simile stalked most prodigiously in the Of which thou canst not form hyperboles : midst. At which I bewrayed the fearlessness of The trophy of triumphing excellence, my nature, and being ready to forsake the fortress The heart of beauty, Mellida appears. of my wit, start up, called for a clean shirt, eat a See! look! the curtain stirs, shine nature's pride, mess of broth, and with that I awaked.

Love's vital spirit, dear Antonio's bride.

[The curtain's drawn, and the body of

FELICE, stabbed thick with wounds, ap1 Wighy Purt. Wighy was applied to the neighing of a horse; Purt is still used provincially as meaning to

pears hung up.

What villain bloods the window of my love ? purt, to be sulky, but we don't know that this is the sense here.

What slave hath hung yon gory ensigu up, 2.God rules the stars.'

3 belkt-belched. In flat defiance of humanity ? 4 abhominable-abominable; a common spelling of Awake, thou fair, unspotted purity! this word with our old writers, from a mistaken notion Death's at thy win low; awake, bright Mellida, that it was derived from Latin ab, from, and homo,

Antonio calls! hominis, man, abhorred by man; its real derivation is ab and omen--i.e. to be turned from as ominous. mounser-) monsieur.

I jellied-congealed.

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stays him.

Ant. Dead?
ACT I.-SCENE IV.

Alb. Dead?
Enter PIERO as in Scene I., with FOROBOSCO.

Ant. Why, now the womb of mischief is de

liver'd Pie. Who gives these ill-befitting attributes

Of the prodigious issue of the night. Of chaste, unspotted, bright, to Mellida ?

Pan. Ha, ha, ha! He lies as loud as thunder; she's unchaste,

Ant. My father dead ? my love attsint of inst: Tainted, impure, black as the soul of hell!

That's a large lie, as vast as spacious bell!
[ANTONIO draws his rapier, offers to run at

Poor, guiltless lady! Oh, accnrsed lie!
Piero, but MARIA holds his arm and What, whom, whither, which shall I first lament:

A dead father, a dishonour'd wife. Stand
Ant. Dog! I will make thee eat thy vomit up,

Methinks I feel the frame of nature shake. Which thou hast belk't 'gainst taintless Mellida.

Cracks not the joints of earth to bear my woes? Pie. Ram't quickly down, that it may not rise

Alb. Sweet prince, be patient. up

Ant. 'Slid, sir, I will not in despite of thee. To imbraid my thoughts. Behold my stomach :

Patience is slave to fools; a chain that's fir Strike me quite through with the relentless edge Only, to posts, and senseless, log-like dolts. Of raging fury. Boy, I'll kill thy love.

Alb. "T'is reason's glory to command affects. Pandulpho Felice, I have stabb'd thy son.

Ant. Lies thy cold father dead, his glossed: Look! yet his lifeblood reeks upon this steel.

eyes Albert, yon bangs thy friend. Have none of you

New closed up by thy sad mother's hands? Courage of vengeance? Forget I am your duke;

Hast thou a love as spotless as the brow Think Mellida is not Piero's blood.

Of clearest heaven, blurr'd with false defa mes? Imagine, on slight ground, I'll blast his honour!

Are thy moist entrails crumpled up with grief Oh, numb my sense of anguish, cast my life

Of parching mischiefs ? Tell me, does thy heart In a dead sleep, whilst law cuts off yon main,

With punching anguish spur thy galled ribs ? Yon putrid ulcer of my royal blood.

Then come, and let's sit and weep, and weathi For. Keep league with reason, gracious sove

our arms; reign.

I'll hear thy counsel. Pie. There glow no sparks of reason in the

Alb. Take comfort. world;

Ant. Confusion to all comfort! I defy it. All are rak'd up in ashy beastliness.

Comfort's a parasite, a flattering Jack, The bulk of man's as dark as Erebus ;

And melts resolv'd despair. Oh, boundless woe No branch of reason's light hangs in his trunk.

If there be any black yet unknown grief, There lives no reason to keep league withal.

If there be any horror yet unfelt, I ha' no reason to be reasonable.

Unthought-of mischief in thy fiend-like power, Her wedding eve, link'd to the noble blood Dash it upon my miserable head; Of my most firmly reconciled friend,

Make me moro wretch, more cursed, if thou And found even cling'd' in sensuality!

canst! O Heaven! 0 Heaven! were she as near my My woes more weighty than my soul can bear.

Oh, now my fate is more than I could fear; heart As is my liver, I would rend her off.

(Ezit. Pan. Ha, ha, ha! Enter Strotzo.

Alb. Why laugh you, uncle? That's my cuk Str. Whither, oh whither shall I hurl vast your son, grief?

Whose breast hangs cased in his cluttered: gore. Pie. Here, into my breast; 'tis a place built Pan. True, man, true; why, wherefore should wide

I weep? By fate, to give receipt to boundless woes. Come, sit, kind nephew; come on; thou and I Str. Oh no; here throb those hearts, which I

Will talk as chorus to this tragedy. must cleave

Entreat the music strain their instruments With my keen, piercing news. Andrugio's dead. With a slight touch, whilst we.-Say on, fair cuz Pie. Dead ?

Alb. He was the very hope of Italy, Mar. Oh me, most miserable!

[Music sounds softs. Pie. Dead! alas! how dead?

The blooming honour of your drooping age.

[Gire seeming passion? Pan. True, cuz, true. They say that men of Fut, treep, act, feign. Dead! alas! how dead ? hope are crush'd ;

Str. The vast delights of his large sudden joys Good are supprest by base, desertless clods, Open'd his powers so wide, that's native heat That stifle gasping virtue. Look, sweet youth, So prodigally tlow'd t'exterior parts,

How provident our quick Venetians are, That th' inner citadel was left unmann'd,

Lest hooves of jades should trample on my boy! And so surpris'd on sudden by cold death. Look how they lift him up to eminence,

Mar. O fatal, disastrous, cursed, dismal ! Heave him 'bove reach of flesh. Ha, ha, ha! Choke breath and life. I breathe, I live too long.

Alb. Uncle, this laughter ill becomes your Andrugio, my lord, I come, I come!

grief. Pie. Be cheerful, princess; help, Castilio,

Pan. Would'st have me cry, run raving up The lady's swooned; help to bear her in.

and down, Slow comfort to huge cares is swiftest sin. For my son's loss? Would'st have me turn rank

Bal. Courage, courage, sweet lady, 'tis Sir mad, Gefferey Balurdo bids you courage. Truly I am Or wring my face with mimic action; as nimble as an elephant about a lady.

Stamp, curse, weep, rage, and then my bosom Pan. Dead?

strike ?

1 cling'd-clasped, embraced.
2 i e, appears to be affected with grief.
3 Fut-an exclamation of impatience.

I affects-affections, passions. ? glossed-glazed. 3 clullered-clotted, curdled; clutter was the name given to a preparation of curdled cream.

Away! 'tis aspish action, player-like.

Pie. Why, what dost thou with a beard ? If he is guiltless, why should tears be spent ? Bal. In truth, one told me that my wit was Thrice blessed soul that dieth innocent.

bald, and that a mermaid was half fish and If he is leper'd' with so foul a guilt,

half flesh, and therefore to speak wisely like one Why should a sigh be lent, a tear be spilt ? of your own counsel, as indeed it hath pleased The gripe of chance is weak to wring a tear you to make me, not only being a fool, of your From him that knows what fortitude should bear. counsel, but also to make me of your counsel, Listen, young blood. 'Tis not true valour's pride being a fool. If my wit be bald, and a mermaid To swagger, quarrel, swear, stamp, rave, and be half fish and half conger, then I must be chide,

forced to conclude, the tiring man hath not glued To stab in fume of blood, to keep loud coil,? on my beard half fast enough; it will not stick To bandy factions in domestic broils,

to fall off. To dare the act of sins, whose filth excels

Pie. Dost thou know what thou bast spoken The blackest customs of blind infidels.

all this while ? No, my lov'd youth: he may of valour vaunt Bal. O lord duke, I would be sorry of that. Whom fortune's loudest thunder cannot daunt; Many men can utter that which no man but Whom fretful gales of chance, stern fortune's themselves can conceive: but I thank a good siege,

wit, I have the gift to speak that which neither Makes not his reason slink, the soul's fair liege, any man else nor myself understands. Whose well-pac'd action ever rests upon,

Pie. Thou art wise. He that speaks he knows Not giddy humours, but discretion.

not what, shall never sin against his own conThis heart valour, even Jove outgoes;

science. Go to, thou art wise. Jove is without, but this 'bove sense of woes: Bal. Wise? Oh no; I have a little natural And such a one, eternity: Behold

discretion, or so; but for wise, I am somewhat Good morrow, son ; thou bid'st a fig for cold. prudent; but for wise, O lord! Sound louder music: let my breath exact,

Pie. Hold, take those keys, open the castle You strike sad tones unto this dismal act.

vault, and put in Mellida.
Bal. And put in Mellida? Well, let me alone.

Pie. Bid Forobosco and Castilio guard,

Endear thyself Piero's intimate.
ACT II.-SCENE I.

Bal. Endear and intimate; good, I assure you.
The cornets sound a cynet.

I will endear and intimate Mellida into the dunEnter two mourners with torches, two with geon presently.

streamers ; CASTILIO and FOROBOSCO, with Pie. Will Pandulpho Felice wait on me? torches; a Herald bearing ANDRUGIO's helm

Bal. I will make him come, most retort and and sword; the coffin ; MARIA supported by obtuse, to you presently. I think Sir Jeffrey Lucio and ALBERTO ; ANTONIO by himself; talks like a councillor. Go to, I think I tickle it. PIERO and Strotzo talking ; GALEATZO and

Pie. I'll seem to wind yon fool with kindest MATZAGENTE, BALURDO, and PANDULPHO: the coffin set down ; helm, sword, and streamers

He that's ambitious minded, and but man, hung up, placed by the Herald; whilst ANTONIO Must have his followers beasts, dubb'd slavish and MARIA wet their handkerchiefs with tears,

sots, kiss them, and lay them on the hearse, kneel Whose service is obedience, and whose wit ing; all go out but PIERO. Cornets cease, and Reacheth no farther than to admire their lord, he speaks.

And stare in adoration of his worth.

I love a slave rak'd out of common mud
Pie. Rot there, thou cerecloth that infolds the
Alesh

Should seem to sit in counsel with my heart. Of my loath'd foe; moulder to crumbling dust;

High honour'd blood's too squeamish to assent, Oblivion choke the passage of thy fame.

And lend a hand to an ignoble act.
Trophies of honour'd birth drop quickly down :

Poison from roses who could e'er abstract?
Let naught of him, but what was vicious, live.
Though thou art dead, think not my hate is

Enter PANDULPHO. dead :

How now, Pandulpho, weeping for thy son ? I have but newly twone 3 my arm in the curl'd

Pan. No, no, Piero, weeping for my sins. locks

Had I been a good father, he had been a gracious Of snaky vengeance. Pale, beetle-brow'd hate But newly bustles up. Sweet wrong, I clap thy Pie. Pollution must be purg'd. thoughts.

Pan. Why taint'st thou then the air with stench Oh let me hug my bosom, rub thy breast,

of flesh, In hope of what may hap. Andrugio rots :

And human putrefaction's noisome scent ? Antonio lives : umh! how loog? Ha, ha! how

I pray his body. Who less boon can crave long?

Than to bestow upon tho dead his grave? Antonio pack'd hence, I'll his mother wed

Pie. Grave? Why, think'st thou he deserves Then clear my daughter of supposed lust,

a grave, Wed her to Florence' heir. Oh excellent!

That hath defiled the temple of Venice, Genoa, Florence at my beck,

Pan. Peace, peace! At Piero's nod.-Balurdo, oh ho!

Methinks I heard a humming murmur creep Oh, 'twill be rare, all unsuspected done.

From out his jellied wounds. Look on those lips, I have been nurs'd in blood, and still have suck'd

Thoso now lawn pillows? on whose tender The steam of reeking gore.--Balurdo, ho !

softness, Enter BALURDO with a beard half off half on. Chaste modest speech, stealing from out his Bal. When my beard is on, most noble prince,

breast, when my beard is on.

arm.

son.

1 leper'd-affected as a leper. ? coil-noise, tumult.

3 trone--twined.

1 laun pillows. This, we suppose, means that his lips were now as white as little lawn pillows.

Had wont to rest itself, as loth to post

Pan. 'Tis praise to do, not what we can, but From out so fair an inn: look, look, they seem should. to stir,

Pie. Hence, doting stoic: by my hope of bliss, And breathe defiance to black obloquy.

I'll make thee wretched. Pie. Think'st thou thy son could suffer wrong Pan. Defiance to thy power, thou risted jawne.! fully?

Now, by the lov'd beaven, sooner thou shalt Pan. A wise man wrongfully, but never wrong Rinse thy foul ribs írom the black filth of sin Can take ; his breast's of such well-tempered That soots thy heart, than make me wretched. proof,

Pish! It may be rac'd,' not pierc'd by savage tooth Thou canst not coop me up. Hadst thou a jail Of foaming malice: showers of darts may dark With treble walls, like antique Babylon, Heaven's ample brow, but not strike out a spark, Pandulpho can get out. I tell thee, anke, Much less pierce the sun's cheek. Such songs I have old Fortunatus' wishing cap, as these,

And can be where I list, even in a trice. I often dittied till my boy did sleep:

I'll skip from earth into the arms of heaven: But now I turn plain fool, (alas) I weep.

And from triumphal arch of blessedness, Pie. 'Fore heaven, he makes me shrug; would Spit on thy frothy breast. Thou canst not slave a' were dead!

Or banish me; I will be free at home, He is a virtuous man. What has our court to do Maugre the beard of greatness. The port-bolos With virtue, in the devil's name? Pandulpho, Of sheathed spirit are ne'er curb'd up; hark:

But still stand open ready to discharge My lustful daughter dies; start not, she dies. Their precious shot into the shrouds of heaven. I pursue justice; I love sanctity,

Pie. Oh torture !

Slave, I banish thee the And an undefiled temple of pure thoughts.

town, Shall I speak freely ? Good Andrugio's dead: Thy native seat of birth. And I do fear a fetch ;? but (umh) would I durst Pan. How proud thou speak'st! I tell thee, speak.

duke, the blasts I do mistrust; but (umh) death; is he all, all of the swoln cheek'd winds, nor all the breath of man;

kings Hath he no part of mother in him, ha ?

Can puff me out my native seat of birth. No lickerish, womanish inquisitiveness ?

The earth's my body's, and the heaven's my soul's Pan. Andrugio's dead !

Most native place of birth, which they will kvep Pie. Ay; and I fear his own unnatural blood, Despite the menace of mortality. To whom he gave life, hath given death for life. Why, duke, How could he come on? I see false suspect 3 That's not my native place, where I was rockel

. Is vic'd; wrung hardly in a virtuous heart. A wise man's home is wheresoe'er be is wise; Well, I could give yon reason for my doubts. Now that, from man, not from the place, doth rise. You are of honourd birth, my very friend. Pie. Would I were deaf (oh, plague)! lence, You know how god-like 'tis to root out sin.

dotard wretch: Antonio is a villain. Will you join

Tread not in court. All that thou hast, I seize. In oath with me, against the traitor's life, His quiet's firmer than I can disease.” And swear you knew he sought his father's Pan. Go, boast unto thy flatt ring sycophants; death?

Pandulpho's slave, Piero hath o'erturown. I lov'd him well, yet I loved justice more. Loose fortunes rags are lost; my owu's my own Our friends we should affect, justice adore.

[Piero going out, looks back. Exeunt at several Pan. My lord, the clapper of my mouth's not doors. glibd

'Tis true, Piero, thy vex'd heart shall soe, With court oil; 't will not strike on both sides yet. Thou hast but tript my slave, not conquered me. Pie. 'Tis just that subjects act commands of

kings. Pan. Command, then, just and honourable

ACT II.-SCENE II. things. Pie. Even so, myself then will traduce+ his guilt.

Enter ANTONIO with a book, LUCIO, ALBERTO,

ANTONIO in black. Pan. Beware! take heed, lest guiltless blood be spilt.

Alb. Nay, sweet, be comforted, take counsel Pie. Where only honest deeds to kings are free, andIt is no empire, but a beggary.

Ant. Alberto, peace: that grief is wanton «ick, Pan. Where more than noble deeds to kings Whose stomach can digest and brook the dict are free,

Of stale ill-relish'd counsel. Pigmy cares It is no empire, but a tyranny.

Can shelter under patience' shield; but giant gricks Pie. Tush, juiceless greybeard, 'tis immunity, Will burst all covert. Proper to princes, that our state exacts,

Lu. My lord, 'tis supper time. Our subjects not alone to bear, but praise our Ant. Drink deep, Alberto; eat, good Lucio; acts.

But my pin'd heart shall eat on Daught but woe. Pan. Oh, but that prince that worthful praise Alb. My lord, we dare not leave you thus alone. aspires,

Ant. You cannot leave Antonio alone, From hearts, and not from lips, applause desires. The chamber of my breast is even throug'd Pie. Pish, true praise, the brow of common With firm attendance that forswears to finch. men doth ring,

I have a thing sits here; it is not grief, False only girds the temple of a king.

'Tis not despair, nor the most pla no He that hath strength and's ignorant of power, That the most wretched are infected with; He was not made to rule, but to be rul'd.

I rac'd-erased. 3

suspect-suspicion.

2 fetch-stratagem, trick.
+ traduce-propagate.

jarone, or chaune-crack or crevice; Gr. canais gape.

a ne 'I cannot touch his quiet or calmness of mod.

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