[223] Old eds. "flow." [224] Not marked in ed. 1602. [225] Reproach, upbraid. [226] "Luxurious twines"--lustful embraces. [227] Old eds. "maine." [228] So ed. 1602.--Ed. 1633, "swounded." [229] The metrical harshness might be removed by reading "A father dead, a wife dishonour'd." [230] Affections, feelings. [231] Old eds. "and let's sit." [232] Saucy fellow. [233] "'_Grumean de sang_, a clot or _clutter_ of congealed blood,' Cotgrave. _Cluttered_ blood, 'Holinshed, _Hist. Engl._ p. 74.'"--_Halliwell._ [234] There seems to be an allusion to old Hieronymo's frantic behaviour in _The Spanish Tragedy_. [235] Well-balanced. [236] A Stoic sentiment. Seneca writes:--"Est aliquid quo sapiens antecedat deum: ille beneficio naturæ non timet, suo sapiens." (_Ep. Mor._, Lib. vi, Ep. 1.) But see particularly the quotation from Seneca on p. 133. ACT II. SCENE I. _A dumb show._ _The cornets sound a senet._ _Enter two mourners with torches, two with streamers_; CASTILIO _and_ FOROBOSCO, _with torches; a Herald bearing_ ANDRUGIO'S _helm and sword; the coffin_; MARIA _supported by_ LUCIO _and_ ALBERTO; _Antonio_, _by himself_; PIERO _and_ STROTZO, _talking_; GALEATZO _and_ MATZAGENTE, BALURDO _and_ PANDULFO: _the coffin set down; helm, sword, and streamers hung up, placed by the Herald, whilst_ ANTONIO _and Maria wet their handkerchers with their tears, kiss them, and lay them on the hearse, kneeling: all go out but_ PIERO. _Cornets cease, and he speaks._ _Pier._ Rot there, thou cerecloth that enfolds the flesh Of my loath'd foe; moulder to crumbling dust; Oblivion choke the passage of thy fame! Trophies of honour'd birth drop quickly down: Let nought of him, but what was vicious, live. Though thou art dead, think not my hate is dead: I have but newly twone my arm in the curl'd locks Of snaky vengeance. Pale, beetle-brow'd hate But newly bustles up. Sweet wrong, I clap thy thoughts! O let me hug thy[237] bosom, rub thy[237] breast, 10 In hope of what may hap. Andrugio rots, Antonio lives: umh: how long? ha, ha! how long? Antonio pack'd hence, I'll his mother wed, Then clear my daughter of supposèd lust, Wed her to Florence heir. O excellent! Venice, Genoa, Florence at my beck, At Piero's nod.--Balurdo, O ho![238]-- O 'twill be rare, all unsuspected done. I have been nursed in blood, and still have suck'd The steam of reeking gore.--Balurdo, ho! 20 _Enter_ BALURDO _with a beard, half off, half on_. _Bal._ When my beard is on, most noble prince, when my beard is on. _Pier._ Why, what dost thou with a beard?