_And._ Villain, 'tis thou hast murderèd my son! Thy unrelenting spirit, thou black dog, 320 That took'st no passion[187] of his fatal love, Hath forced him give his life untimely end. _Pier._ O! that my life, her love, my dearest blood, Would but redeem one minute of his breath! _Ant._ [_rising_.] I seize that breath. Stand not amazed, great states; I rise from death that never lived till now. Piero, keep thy vow, and I enjoy More unexpressèd height of happiness Than power of thought can reach; if not, lo, here There stands my tomb, and here a pleasing stage. 330 Most-wish'd spectators of my tragedy, To this end have I feign'd, that her fair eye, For whom I lived, might bless me ere I die. _Mel._ Can breath depaint[188] my unconceivèd thoughts? Can words describe my infinite delight Of seeing thee, my lord Antonio? O no; conceit, breath, passion, words, be dumb, Whilst I instill the dew of my sweet bliss, In the soft pressure of a melting kiss! _Sic, sic juvat ire sub umbras._ 340 _Pier._ Fair son (now I'll be proud to call thee son), Enjoy me thus: my very breast is thine; Possess me freely, I am wholly thine. _Ant._ Dear father---- _And._ Sweet son, sweet son, I can speak no more: My joy's passion flows above the shore, And chokes the current of my speech. _Pier._ Young Florence prince, to you my lips must beg For a remittance of your interest. _Gal._ In your fair daughter? with all my thought. 350 So help me faith, the nak'd truth I'll unfold; He that was never[189] hot will soon be cold. _Pier._ No man else makes claim unto her? _Mat._ The valiant speak truth in brief: no-- _Bal._ Truly, for Sir Jeffrey Balurdo, he disclaims to have had anything in her. _Pier._ Then here I give her to Antonio. Royal, valiant, most respected prince, Let's clip our hands, I'll thus observe my vow: I promised twenty thousand double pistolets, 360 With the endearing to my dearest love, To him that brought thy head; thine be the gold, To solemnise our houses' unity; My love be thine, the all I have, be thine. Fill us fresh wine, the form we'll take by this; We'll drink a health, while they two sip a kiss.[190] Now there remains no discord that can sound Harsh accents to the ear of our accord: So please you,[191] niece, to match. 369 _Ros._ Troth, uncle, when my sweet-faced coz hath told me how she likes the thing called wedlock, may be I'll take a survey of the checkroll of my servants; and he that hath the best parts of--I'll prick him down for my husband. _Bal._ For passion of love now, remember me to my mistress, lady Rossaline, when she is pricking down the good parts of her servants. As I am true knight, I grow stiff; I shall carry it.