The White Devil Part 29

Fran. Your love is untimely sown; there 's a spring at Michaelmas, but 'tis but a faint one: I am sunk in years, and I have vowed never to marry.

Zan. Alas! poor maids get more lovers than husbands: yet you may mistake my wealth. For, as when amba.s.sadors are sent to congratulate princes, there 's commonly sent along with them a rich present, so that, though the prince like not the amba.s.sador's person, nor words, yet he likes well of the presentment; so I may come to you in the same manner, and be better loved for my dowry than my virtue.

Fran. I 'll think on the motion.

Zan. Do; I 'll now detain you no longer. At your better leisure, I 'll tell you things shall startle your blood: Nor blame me that this pa.s.sion I reveal; Lovers die inward that their flames conceal.

Fran. Of all intelligence this may prove the best: Sure I shall draw strange fowl from this foul nest. [Exeunt.

SCENE II

Enter Marcello and Cornelia

Corn. I hear a whispering all about the court, You are to fight: who is your opposite?

What is the quarrel?

Marc. 'Tis an idle rumour.

Corn. Will you dissemble? sure you do not well To fright me thus: you never look thus pale, But when you are most angry. I do charge you, Upon my blessing--nay, I 'll call the duke, And he shall school you.

Marc. Publish not a fear, Which would convert to laughter: 'tis not so.

Was not this crucifix my father's?

Corn. Yes.

Marc. I have heard you say, giving my brother suck He took the crucifix between his hands, [Enter Flamineo.

And broke a limb off.

Corn. Yes, but 'tis mended.

Flam. I have brought your weapon back.

[Flamineo runs Marcello through.

Corn. Ha! Oh, my horror!

Marc. You have brought it home, indeed.

Corn. Help! Oh, he 's murder'd!

Flam. Do you turn your gall up? I 'll to sanctuary, And send a surgeon to you. [Exit.

Enter Lodovico, Hortensio, and Gasparo

Hort. How! o' th' ground!

Marc. Oh, mother, now remember what I told Of breaking of the crucifix! Farewell.

There are some sins, which heaven doth duly punish In a whole family. This it is to rise By all dishonest means! Let all men know, That tree shall long time keep a steady foot, Whose branches spread no wider than the root. [Dies.

Corn. Oh, my perpetual sorrow!

Hort. Virtuous Marcello!

He 's dead. Pray leave him, lady: come, you shall.

Corn. Alas! he is not dead; he 's in a trance. Why, here 's n.o.body shall get anything by his death. Let me call him again, for G.o.d's sake!

Lodo. I would you were deceived.

Corn. Oh, you abuse me, you abuse me, you abuse me! how many have gone away thus, for lack of 'tendance! rear up 's head, rear up 's head! his bleeding inward will kill him.

Hort. You see he is departed.

Corn. Let me come to him; give me him as he is, if he be turn'd to earth; let me but give him one hearty kiss, and you shall put us both in one coffin. Fetch a looking-gla.s.s: see if his breath will not stain it; or pull out some feathers from my pillow, and lay them to his lips.

Will you lose him for a little painstaking?

Hort. Your kindest office is to pray for him.

Corn. Alas! I would not pray for him yet. He may live to lay me i' th'