A Select Collection of Old English Plays - LightNovelsOnl.com
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ALB. And, since the lamp of heaven is newly enter'd To Cancer, old Antonio is stark dead, Drown'd in the sea, stone dead; for _radius directorius_ In the sixth house, and the waning moon by Capricorn; He's dead, he's dead.
CRI. 'Tis an ill time to marry.
The moon grows fork'd, and walks with Capricorn.
PAN. Peace, fool! these words are full of mysteries.
ALB. What ominous face and dismal countenance, Mark'd for disasters, hated of all the heavens, Is this that follows you?
PAN. He is my servant; A plain and honest speaker, but no harm in him.
CRI. What see you in my face?
ALB. Horror and darkness, death and gallowses: I'd swear thou'rt hang'd, stood'st thou but two foot higher; But now thy stars threaten a nearer death.
Sir, send to toll his knell.
PAN. What, is he dead?
ALB. He shall be by the dint of many stabs; Only I spy a little hope of 'scaping Thorough the clouds and foul aspects of death.
CRI. Sir, pray give no credit to this cheater; Or with his words of art he'll make you doat As much on his feign'd skill, as on fair Flavia.
SCENE VI.
_Enter_ HARPAX _and_ FURBO.
HAR. Stay, villain, stay! though safety 'tself defend thee, Thou diest.
FUR. Come, do thy worst; thrust sure, or die.
CRI. For heaven's sake, gentlemen, stay your hands: help, help!
Help, Alb.u.mazar!
HAR. Thus to the hinderer Of my revenge.
CRI. Save me, Alb.u.mazar.
FUR. And thus, and thus, and thus.
CRI. Master, I die, I die.
HAR. Fliest thou, Base coward? Tis not thy heels can save thee. [_Exeunt._
SCENE VII.
ALb.u.mAZAR, PANDOLFO, CRICCA.
CRI. O, O!
PAN. What ails thee, Cricca?
CRI. I am dead, I am dead.
Trouble yourself no more.
PAN. What! dead, and speak'st?
CRI. Only there's left a little breath to tell you.
PAN. Why, where art hurt?
CRI. Stabb'd with a thousand daggers; My heart, my lights, my liver, aud my skin, Pierc'd like a sieve.
PAN. Here's not a wound: stand up, 'Tis but thy fear.
CRI. 'Tis but one wound all over: Softly, O, softly! You have lost the truest servant.-- Farewell, I die.
ALB. Live by my courtesy; stand up and breathe.
The dangerous and malignant influence is pa.s.s'd: But thank my charity, that put by the blows, The least of which threaten'd a dozen graves.
Now learn to scoff [no more] divine astrology, And slight her servants!
CRI. A surgeon, good sir, a surgeon.
ALB. Stand up, man, th' hast no harm; my life for thine.
PAN. Th' art well, th' art well.
CRI. Now I perceive I am: I pray you pardon me, divine astrologer.
ALB. I do: but henceforth laugh [not] at astrology, And call her servants cheaters.
PAN. Now to our business. On, good Alb.u.mazar.
ALB. Now, since the moon pa.s.seth from Capricorn, Through Aquarius, to the wat'ry sign of Pisces, Antonio's drown'd, and is devour'd by fishes.
PAN. Is't certain?
ALB. Certain.
PAN. Then let my earnestness Entreat your skill a favour.
ALB. It shall; but first I'll tell you what you mean to ask me.
PAN. Strange!
ALB. Antonio dead, that promis'd you his daughter: Your business is to entreat me raise his ghost, And force it stay at home, till it have perform'd The promise pa.s.s'd, and so return to rest.
PAN. That, that; ye have hit it, most divine Alb.u.mazar.
