_D'Am._ But let me call my projects to account For what effect and end have I engaged Myself in all this blood? To leave a state To the succession of my proper blood. But how shall that succession be continued? Not in my elder son, I fear. Disease And weakness have disabled him for issue. For the other,--his loose humour will endure No bond of marriage. And I doubt his life, His spirit is so boldly dangerous. O pity that the profitable end Of such a prosperous murder should be lost! Nature forbid! I hope I have a body That will not suffer me to lose my labour For want of issue yet. But then't must be A bastard.--Tush! they only father bastards That father other men's begettings. Daughter! Be it mine own. Let it come whence it will, I am resolved. Daughter! _Enter_ Servant. _Ser._ My lord. _D'Am._ I prithee call my daughter. _Enter_ CASTABELLA. _Cast._ Your pleasure, sir. _D'Am._ Is thy husband i' bed? _Cast._ Yes, my lord. _D'Am._ The evening's fair. I prithee walk a turn or two. _Cast._ Come, Jaspar. _D'Am._ No. We'll walk but to the corner o' the church; And I have something to speak privately. _Cast._ No matter; stay. [_Exit_ Servant. _D'Am._ This falls out happily. [_Exeunt._ SCENE III.--_The Churchyard._ _Enter_ CHARLEMONT.--BORACHIO _dogging him. The clock strikes twelve._ _Charl._ Twelve. _Bor._ 'Tis a good hour: 'twill strike one anon. _Charl._ How fit a place for contemplation is this dead of night, among the dwellings of the dead.--This grave--Perhaps the inhabitant was in his lifetime the possessor of his own desires. Yet in the midst of all his greatness and his wealth he was less rich and less contented than in this poor piece of earth lower and lesser than a cottage. For here he neither wants nor cares. Now that his body savours of corruption He enjoys a sweeter rest than e'er he did Amongst the sweetest pleasures of this life, For here there's nothing troubles him.--And there --In that grave lies another. He, perhaps, Was in his life as full of misery As this of happiness. And here's an end Of both. Now both their states are equal. O That man with so much labour should aspire To worldly height, when in the humble earth The world's condition's at the best, or scorn Inferior men, since to be lower than A worm is to be higher than a king. _Bor._ Then fall and rise. [_Discharges the pistol, which misses fire._ _Charl._ What villain's hand was that? Save thee, or thou shalt perish. [_They fight._ _Bor._ Zounds! unsaved I think. [_Falls._