quiet death. BOSOLA. [Aside.] Nay, then, I see I must stand upon my guard. FERDINAND. What say to that? Whisper softly: do you agree to 't? So; it must be done i' th' dark; the cardinal would not for a thousand pounds the doctor should see it. Exit. BOSOLA. My death is plotted; here 's the consequence of murder. We value not desert nor Christian breath, When we know black deeds must be cur'd with death. [Enter ANTONIO and Servant] SERVANT. Here stay, sir, and be confident, I pray; I 'll fetch you a dark lantern. Exit. ANTONIO. Could I take him at his prayers, There were hope of pardon. BOSOLA. Fall right, my sword!— [Stabs him.] I 'll not give thee so much leisure as to pray. ANTONIO. O, I am gone! Thou hast ended a long suit In a minute. BOSOLA. What art thou? ANTONIO. A most wretched thing, That only have thy benefit in death, To appear myself. [Re-enter Servant with a lantern] SERVANT. Where are you, sir? ANTONIO. Very near my home.—Bosola! SERVANT. O, misfortune! BOSOLA. Smother thy pity, thou art dead else.—Antonio! The man I would have sav'd 'bove mine own life! We are merely the stars' tennis-balls, struck and banded Which way please them.—O good Antonio, I 'll whisper one thing in thy dying ear Shall make thy heart break quickly! Thy fair duchess And two sweet children—— ANTONIO. Their very names Kindle a little life in me. BOSOLA. Are murder'd. ANTONIO. Some men have wish'd to die At the hearing of sad tidings; I am glad That I shall do 't in sadness.[135] I would not now Wish my wounds balm'd nor heal'd, for I have no use To put my life to. In all our quest of greatness, Like wanton boys whose pastime is their care, We follow after bubbles blown in th' air. Pleasure of life, what is 't? Only the good hours Of an ague; merely a preparative to rest, To endure vexation. I do not ask The process of my death; only commend me To Delio. BOSOLA. Break, heart! ANTONIO. And let my son fly the courts to princes. [Dies.] BOSOLA. Thou seem'st to have lov'd Antonio. SERVANT. I brought him hither, To have reconcil'd him to the cardinal. BOSOLA. I do not ask thee that. Take him up, if thou tender thine own life, And bear him where the lady Julia Was wont to lodge.—O, my fate moves swift! I have this cardinal in the forge already; Now I 'll bring him to th' hammer. O direful misprision![136] I will not imitate things glorious. No more than base; I 'll be mine own example.— On, on, and look thou represent, for silence, The thing thou bear'st.[137] Exeunt.
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