"Of what is 't fools make such vain keeping? Sin their conception, their birth weeping, Their life a general mist of error, Their death a hideous storm of terror,"-- when all that malice could suggest for her torment has been expended, and the ruffians who have been sent to murder her approach to do their office, her attitude is that of quiet dignity, forgetful of her own sufferings, solicitous for others. Her attendant, Cariola, screams out: "Hence, villains, tyrants, murderers: alas! What will you do with my lady? Call for help. "_Duchess._ To whom,--to our next neighbors? They are mad folks. "_Bosola._ Remove that noise. "_Duchess._ Farewell, Cariola. In my last will I have not much to give: A many hungry guests have fed upon me; Thine will be a poor reversion. "_Cariola._ I will die with her. "_Duchess._ I pray thee, look thou giv'st my little boy Some syrup for his cold, and let the girl Say her prayers ere she sleep. Now what you please: What death? "_Bosola._ Strangling; here are your executioners. * * * * "_Duchess._ Pull, and pull strongly, for your able strength Must pull down heaven upon me: Yet stay, heaven-gates are not so highly arched As princes' palaces; they that enter there Must go upon their knees. Come, violent death. Serve for mandragora to make me sleep. Go, tell my brothers; when I am laid out, They then may feed in quiet." The strange, unearthly stupor which precedes the remorse of Ferdinand for her murder is true to nature, and especially his nature. Bosola, pointing to the dead body of the Duchess, says: "Fix your eye here. "_Ferd._ Constantly. "_Bosola._ Do you not weep? Other sins only speak; murther shrieks out: The element of water moistens the earth, But blood flies upwards and bedews the heavens. "_Ferd._ Cover her face; mine eyes dazzle; She died young. "_Bosola._ I think not so; her infelicity Seemed to have years too many. "_Ferd._ She and I were twins: And should I die this instant, I had lived Her time to a minute."