Pier. Daughter, methinks your eyes should sparkle joy,
Your bosom rise on tiptoe at this news. 210
Mel. Ay me!
Pier. How now? Ay, me! why, art not great of thanks
To gracious Heaven for the just revenge
Upon the author of thy obloquies!
Mar. Sweet beauty, I could sigh as fast as you,
But that I know that, which I weep to know.
[Aside.] His[302] fortunes should be such he dare not show
His open presence!
Mel. I know he lov’d me dearly, dearly, ay:
And since I cannot live with him, I die. 220
[Swoons.
Pier. ’Fore Heaven, her speech falters; look, she swouns.
Convey her up into her private bed.
[Maria, Nutriche, and the Ladies bear out Mellida, as being swooned.
I hope she’ll live. If not——
Ant. Antonio’s dead! the fool will follow too.
He, he, he!
[Aside.] Now works the scene; quick observation, scud
To cote[303] the plot, or else the path is lost:
My very self am gone, my way is fled:
Ay, all is lost, if Mellida is dead.