PESCARA. These are your true pangs of death, The pangs of life, that struggle with great statesmen. DELIO. In such a deformed silence witches whisper their charms. CARDINAL. Doth she make religion her riding-hood To keep her from the sun and tempest? FERDINAND. That, that damns her. Methinks her fault and beauty, Blended together, show like leprosy, The whiter, the fouler. I make it a question Whether her beggarly brats were ever christ'ned. CARDINAL. I will instantly solicit the state of Ancona To have them banish'd. FERDINAND. You are for Loretto: I shall not be at your ceremony; fare you well.-- Write to the Duke of Malfi, my young nephew She had by her first husband, and acquaint him With 's mother's honesty. BOSOLA. I will. FERDINAND. Antonio! A slave that only smell'd of ink and counters, And never in 's life look'd like a gentleman, But in the audit-time.--Go, go presently, Draw me out an hundred and fifty of our horse, And meet me at the foot-bridge. Exeunt. Scene IV [Enter] Two Pilgrims to the Shrine of our Lady of Loretto FIRST PILGRIM. I have not seen a goodlier shrine than this; Yet I have visited many. SECOND PILGRIM. The Cardinal of Arragon Is this day to resign his cardinal's hat: His sister duchess likewise is arriv'd To pay her vow of pilgrimage. I expect A noble ceremony. FIRST PILGRIM. No question.--They come. [Here the ceremony of the Cardinal's instalment, in the habit of a soldier, perform'd in delivering up his cross, hat, robes, and ring, at the shrine, and investing him with sword, helmet, shield, and spurs; then ANTONIO, the DUCHESS and their children, having presented themselves at the shrine, are, by a form of banishment in dumb-show expressed towards them by the CARDINAL and the state of Ancona, banished: during all which ceremony, this ditty is sung, to very solemn music, by divers churchmen: and then exeunt [all except the] Two Pilgrims. Arms and honours deck thy story, To thy fame's eternal glory! Adverse fortune ever fly thee; No disastrous fate come nigh thee! I alone will sing thy praises, Whom to honour virtue raises, And thy study, that divine is, Bent to martial discipline is, Lay aside all those robes lie by thee; Crown thy arts with arms, they 'll beautify thee. O worthy of worthiest name, adorn'd in this manner, Lead bravely thy forces on under war's warlike banner! O, mayst thou prove fortunate in all martial courses! Guide thou still by skill in arts and forces! Victory attend thee nigh, whilst fame sings loud thy powers; Triumphant conquest crown thy head, and blessings pour down showers![94]