Part 30 (1/2)

ground, and pray for me, if you 'll let me come to him.

Enter Brachiano, all armed, save the beaver, with Flamineo and others

Brach. Was this your handiwork?

Flam. It was my misfortune.

Corn. 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 griev'd mother.

Corn. Oh, you screech-owl!

Hort. Forbear, good madam.

Corn. Let me go, let me go.

[She runs to Flamineo with her knife drawn, and coming to him lets it fall.

The G.o.d 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-gla.s.s with his moulder'd ashes, To tell how thou shouldst spend the time to come In blessed repentance!

Brach. Mother, pray tell me How came he by his death? what was the quarrel?

Corn. Indeed, my younger boy presum'd 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. That is not true, madam.

Corn. I pray thee, peace.

One arrow 's graze'd already; it were vain T' 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 d.u.c.h.ess 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 forc'd each evening To renew it, or be hang'd.

Flam. At your pleasure.