VEN. No power is angry when the lustful die; When thunder claps, heaven likes the tragedy.
_Enter the other masque of intended murderers, step-sons,_ _Bastard, and a fourth man, coming in_ _dancing. The duke recovers a little in voice, and_ _groans, calls_, A guard! treason! _at which_ _they all start out of their measure, and, turning_ _towards the table, they find them all to be murdered_.
AMB. Here's a labour sav'd; I thought to have sped him. 'Sblood, how came this?
SPU. Then I proclaim myself; now I am duke.
4TH NOBLE. Base villain! hast thou slain my lord and master?
VEN. Pistols! treason! murder! Help! guard my lord the duke!
VEN. Surgeons! surgeons! Heart! does he breathe so long? [_Aside._
ANT. A piteous tragedy! able to make[118] An old man's eyes bloodshot.
VEN. Look to my lord the duke. A vengeance throttle him! [_Aside._ Confess, thou murd'rous and unhallow'd man, Didst thou kill all these?
VEN. La you now, sir-- O marble impudence! will you confess now?
ANT. Away with that foul monster, Dipp'd in a prince's blood.
VEN. New marrow! no, it cannot be express'd.[119] How fares my lord the duke?
LUS. Farewell to all; He that climbs highest has the greatest fall. My tongue is out of office.
VEN. Air, gentlemen, air. Now thou'lt not prate on't, 'twas Vendice murder'd thee.
VEN. And I am he: tell nobody--so, so, the duke's departed.
ANT. It was a deadly hand that wounded him. The rest, ambitious who should rule and sway After his death, were so made all away.
HIP. Now the hope Of Italy lies in your reverend years.
VEN. Your hair will make the silver age again, When there were fewer, but more honest men.
ANT. The burthen's weighty, and will press age down; May I so rule, that heaven may keep the crown!
VEN. The rape of your good lady has been quitted With death on death.
ANT. Just is the law above. But of all things it put me most to wonder How the old duke came murder'd!
ANT. It was the strangeliest carried: I not heard of the like.
HIP. 'Twas all done for the best, my lord.
VEN. All for your grace's good. We may be bold to speak it now, 'Twas somewhat witty carried, though we say it-- 'Twas we two murder'd him.
VEN. None else, i' faith, my lord. Nay, 'twas well-manag'd.
VEN. Heart! was't not for your good, my lord?