ALB. Horror and darkness, death and gallowses: I'd swear thou'rt hang'd, stood'st thou but two foot higher; But now thy stars threaten a nearer death. Sir, send to toll his knell. PAN. What, is he dead? ALB. He shall be by the dint of many stabs; Only I spy a little hope of 'scaping Thorough the clouds and foul aspects of death. CRI. Sir, pray give no credit to this cheater; Or with his words of art he'll make you doat As much on his feign'd skill, as on fair Flavia. SCENE VI. _Enter_ HARPAX _and_ FURBO. HAR. Stay, villain, stay! though safety 'tself defend thee, Thou diest. FUR. Come, do thy worst; thrust sure, or die. CRI. For heaven's sake, gentlemen, stay your hands: help, help! Help, Albumazar! HAR. Thus to the hinderer Of my revenge. CRI. Save me, Albumazar. FUR. And thus, and thus, and thus. CRI. Master, I die, I die. HAR. Fliest thou, Base coward? Tis not thy heels can save thee. [_Exeunt._ SCENE VII. ALBUMAZAR, PANDOLFO, CRICCA. CRI. O, O! PAN. What ails thee, Cricca? CRI. I am dead, I am dead. Trouble yourself no more. PAN. What! dead, and speak'st? CRI. Only there's left a little breath to tell you. PAN. Why, where art hurt? CRI. Stabb'd with a thousand daggers; My heart, my lights, my liver, aud my skin, Pierc'd like a sieve. PAN. Here's not a wound: stand up, 'Tis but thy fear. CRI. 'Tis but one wound all over: Softly, O, softly! You have lost the truest servant.-- Farewell, I die. ALB. Live by my courtesy; stand up and breathe. The dangerous and malignant influence is pass'd: But thank my charity, that put by the blows, The least of which threaten'd a dozen graves. Now learn to scoff [no more] divine astrology, And slight her servants! CRI. A surgeon, good sir, a surgeon. ALB. Stand up, man, th' hast no harm; my life for thine. PAN. Th' art well, th' art well. CRI. Now I perceive I am: I pray you pardon me, divine astrologer. ALB. I do: but henceforth laugh [not] at astrology, And call her servants cheaters. PAN. Now to our business. On, good Albumazar. ALB. Now, since the moon passeth from Capricorn, Through Aquarius, to the wat'ry sign of Pisces, Antonio's drown'd, and is devour'd by fishes. PAN. Is't certain? ALB. Certain. PAN. Then let my earnestness Entreat your skill a favour. ALB. It shall; but first I'll tell you what you mean to ask me. PAN. Strange! ALB. Antonio dead, that promis'd you his daughter: Your business is to entreat me raise his ghost, And force it stay at home, till it have perform'd The promise pass'd, and so return to rest. PAN. That, that; ye have hit it, most divine Albumazar.