Page:The Tragedy of the Duchesse of Malfy (1623).pdf/96

 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 little life in me.

Bos. Are murderd.

Ant. Some men have 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 have no use 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 preparative 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 have lov'd Antonio?

Serv. I brought him hether, To have reconcil'd him to the Cardinall.

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