Farewell, adieu! saith thy love true, As to part loath. Time bids us part, mine own sweet heart, God bless us both. [_Exit_ BALURDO. _Mar._ Good night, Nutriche. Pages, leave the room. The life of night grows short, 'tis almost dead. 60 [_Exeunt Pages and_ NUTRICHE. O thou cold widow-bed, sometime thrice blest By the warm pressure of my sleeping lord, Open thy leaves, and whilst on thee I tread, Groan out,--Alas, my dear Andrugio's dead! [MARIA _draweth the curtain: and the ghost of_ ANDRUGIO _is displayed, sitting on the bed_. Amazing terror, what portent is this! _Ghost of And._ Disloyal to our hymeneal[284] rites, What raging heat reigns in thy strumpet blood? Hast thou so soon forgot Andrugio? Are our love-bands so quickly cancellèd? Where lives thy plighted faith unto this breast? 70 O weak Maria! Go to, calm thy fears. I pardon thee, poor soul! O shed no tears; Thy sex is weak. That black incarnate fiend May trip thy faith that hath o'erthrown my life: I was impoison'd by Piero's hand. Join with my son to bend up strain'd revenge, Maintain a seeming favour to his suit, Till time may form our vengeance absolute. _Enter_ ANTONIO, _his arms bloody, bearing a torch, and a poniard_. _Ant._ See, unamazed I will behold thy face; Outstare the terror of thy grim aspect, 80 Daring the horrid'st object of the night. Look how I smoke in blood, reeking the steam Of foaming vengeance. O my soul's enthroned In the triumphant chariot of revenge! Methinks I am all air, and feel no weight Of human dirt clog. This is Julio's blood! Rich music, father: this is Julio's blood! Why lives that mother? _Ghost of And._ Pardon ignorance. Fly, dear Antonio: Once more assume disguise, and dog the court 90 In feignèd habit, till Piero's blood May even o'erflow the brim of full revenge. Peace and all blessèd fortunes to you both! Fly thou from court, be peerless in revenge: [_Exit_ ANTONIO. Sleep thou in rest, lo, here I close thy couch. [_Exit_ MARIA _to her bed_, ANDRUGIO _drawing the curtains_. And now ye sooty coursers of the night, Hurry your chariot into hell's black womb. Darkness, make flight; graves, eat your dead again: Let's repossess our shrouds. Why lags delay? Mount sparkling brightness, give the world his day! 100 [_Exit_ ANDRUGIO. [279] A common term for endearment. [280] _The Problemes of Aristotle, with other Philosophers and Phisitions, wherein are contayned diuers questions, with their answers, touching the estate of man's bodie_, 1595, 1597, &c.--an old chap-book.