_Cor._ Let me come to him; give me him as he is: if he be turned to earth, let me but give him one hearty kiss, and you shall put us both into one coffin. Fetch a looking glass; see if his breath will not stain it: or pull out some feathers from my pillow, and lay them to his lips. Will you lose him for a little pains-taking? _Hort._ Your kindest office is to pray for him. _Cor._ Alas, I would not pray for him yet. He may live to lay me i' the ground, and pray for me, if you'll let me come to him. _Enter_ BRACHIANO _all armed save the beaver, with_ FLAMINEO, FRANCISCO DE MEDICIS, LODOVICO, _and_ Page. _Brach._ Was this your handiwork? _Flam._ It was my misfortune. _Cor._ He lies, he lies; he did not kill him: these have killed him that would not let him be better looked to. _Brach._ Have comfort, my grieved mother. _Cor._ O you screech-owl! _Hort._ Forbear, good madam. _Cor._ Let me go, let me go. [_She runs to_ FLAMINEO _with her knife drawn, and, coming to him, lets it fall._ The God of Heaven forgive thee! Dost not wonder I pray for thee? I'll tell thee what's the reason: I have scarce breath to number twenty minutes; I'd not spend that in cursing. Fare thee well: Half of thyself lies there; and mayst thou live To fill an hour-glass with his mouldered ashes, To tell how thou shouldst spend the time to come In blest repentance! _Brach._ Mother, pray tell me How came he by his death? what was the quarrel? _Cor._ Indeed, my younger boy presumed too much Upon his manhood, gave him bitter words, Drew his sword first; and so, I know not how, For I was out of my wits, he fell with's head Just in my bosom. _Page._ This is not true, madam. _Cor._ I pray thee, peace. One arrow's grazed already: it were vain To lose this for that will ne'er be found again. _Brach._ Go, bear, the body to Cornelia's lodging: And we command that none acquaint our duchess With this sad accident. For you, Flamineo, Hark you, I will not grant your pardon. _Flam._ No? _Brach._ Only a lease of your life; and that shall last But for one day: thou shalt be forced each evening To renew it, or be hanged. _Flam._ At your pleasure. [LODOVICO _sprinkles_ BRACHIANO'S _beaver with a poison._ Your will is law now, I'll not meddle with it. _Brach._ You once did brave me in your sister's lodging; I'll now keep you in awe for't.--Where's our beaver? _Fran de Med._ [_Aside_]. He calls for his destruction. Noble youth, I pity thy sad fate! Now to the barriers. This shall his passage to the black lake further; The last good deed he did, he pardoned murther. [_Exeunt._ SCENE III._--The Lists at Padua._ _Charges and shouts. They fight at barriers; first single pairs, then three to three._ _Enter_ BRACHIANO, VITTORIA COROMBONA, GIOVANNI, FRANCISCO DE MEDICIS, FLAMINEO, _with others._ _Brach._ An armorer! ud's death, an armorer!