_Feli._ Antonio, 194 Be not affright, sweet Prince; appease thy fear, Buckle thy spirits up, put all thy wits In wimble[131] action, or thou art surprised. _Ant._ I care not. _Feli.</i. Art mad, or desperate? or---- _Ant._ Both, both, all, all: I prithee let me lie; 200 Spite of you all, I can, and I will die. _Feli.</i You are distraught; O, this is madness' breath! _Ant._ Each man take[s] hence life, but no man death: He's a good fellow, and keeps open house: A thousand thousand ways lead to his gate, To his wide-mouthèd porch, when niggard life Hath[132] but one little, little wicket through. We wring ourselves into this wretched world, To pule, and weep, exclaim, to curse and rail, To fret, and ban the fates, to strike the earth, 210 As I do now. Antonio, curse thy birth, And die! _Feli.</i Nay, heaven's my comfort, now you are perverse: You know I always loved you; prithee live. Wilt thou strike dead thy friends, draw mourning tears? _Ant._ Alas, Feliche, I ha' ne'er a friend; No country, father, brother, kinsman left To weep my fate or sigh my funeral: I roll but up and down, and fill a seat In the dark cave of dusky misery. 220 _Feli._ 'Fore heaven, the Duke comes! hold you, take my key, Slink to my chamber; look you, that is it: There shall you find a suit I wore at sea; Take it, and slip away. Nay, 'precious! If you'll be peevish, by this light, I'll swear Thou rail'dst upon thy love before thou diedst, And call'd her strumpet. _Ant._ She'll not credit thee. _Feli.</i Tut, that's all one: I will defame thy love, And make thy dead trunk held in vile regard. _Ant._ Wilt needs have it so? why then, Antonio, 230 _Vive esperanza in dispetto del fato._ [_Exit._ _Enter_ PIERO, GALEATZO, MATZAGENTE, FOROBOSCO, BALURDO, _and_ CASTILIO, _with weapons_. _Pier._ O, my sweet princes, was't not bravely found? Even there I found the note, even there it lay: I kiss the place for joy, that there it lay. This way he went, here let us make a stand: I'll keep this gate myself. O gallant youth! I'll drink carouse unto your country's health Even in Antonio's skull. _Bal._ Lord bless us, his breath is more fearful than a sergeant's voice when he cries, I arrest. 240 _Enter_ ANTONIO, _disguised as a sailor_. _Ant._ Stop Antonio! keep, keep Antonio! _Pier._ Where, where, man, where? _Ant._ Here, here: let me pursue him down the marsh! _Pier._ Hold, there's my signet, take a gundelet: Bring me his head, his head, and, by mine honour, I'll make thee the wealthiest mariner that breathes. _Ant._ I'll sweat my blood out till I have him safe.