_Bos._ Yes, I hold my weary soul in my teeth; 'Tis ready to part from me. I do glory That thou, which stood'st like a huge pyramid Begun upon a large and ample base, Shalt end in a little point, a kind of nothing. _Enter below_, PESCARA, MALATESTI, RODERIGO, _and_ GRISOLAN. _Pes._ How now, my lord! _Mal._ O sad disaster! _Rod._ How comes this? _Bos._ Revenge for the Duchess of Malfi murdered By the Arragonian brethren; for Antonio Slain by this hand; for lustful Julia Poisoned by this man; and lastly for myself, That was an actor in the main of all Much 'gainst mine own good nature, yet i' the end Neglected. _Pes._ How now, my lord! _Card._ Look to my brother: He gave us these large wounds, as we were struggling Here i' the rushes.[143] And now, I pray, let me Be laid by and never thought of. [_Dies._ _Pes._ How fatally, it seems, he did withstand His own rescue! _Mal._ Thou wretched thing of blood How came Antonio by his death? _Bos._ In a mist; I know not how: Such a mistake as I have often seen In a play. O, I am gone! We are only like dead walls or vaulted graves, That, ruined, yield no echo. Fare you well. It may be pain, but no harm, to me to die In so good a quarrel. O, this gloomy world! In what a shadow, or deep pit of darkness, Doth womanish and fearful mankind live! Let worthy minds ne'er stagger in distrust To suffer death or shame for what is just: Mine is another voyage. [_Dies._ _Pes._ The noble Delio, as I came to the palace, Told me of Antonio's being here, and showed me A pretty gentleman, his son and heir. _Enter_ DELIO _and_ ANTONIO'S Son. _Mal._ O sir, you come too late! _Delio._ I heard so, and Was armed for't, ere I came. Let us make noble use Of this great ruin; and join all our force To establish this young hopeful gentleman In's mother's right. These wretched eminent things Leave no more fame behind 'em, than should one Fall in a frost, and leave his print in snow; As soon as the sun shines, it ever melts, Both form and matter. I have ever thought Nature doth nothing so great for great men As when she's pleased to make them lords of truth: Integrity of life is fame's best friend, Which nobly, beyond death, shall crown the end. [_Exeunt._ _THE ATHEIST'S TRAGEDY; OR, THE HONEST MAN'S REVENGE._ Cyril Tourneur's _Atheist's Tragedy; or, the Honest Man's Revenge_, was first printed in 1611, "as in divers places it hath often been acted." It was probably written earlier than _The Revenger's Tragedy_. It was not printed again until 1792, and was subsequently included in Churton Collins's edition of Tourneur's works. _DRAMATIS PERSONÆ._ MONTFERRERS, a Baron BELFOREST, a Baron. D'AMVILLE, Brother of MONTFERRERS. CHARLEMONT, Son of MONTFERRERS. ROUSARD, elder Son of D'AMVILLE. SEBASTIAN, younger Son of D'AMVILLE.