Pier. Sit close unto my breast, heart of my love;
Advance thy drooping eyes, thy son is drown’d.
Rich happiness that such a son is drown’d!
Thy husband’s dead: life of my joys most bless’d,
In that the sapless log, that press’d thy bed
With an unpleasing weight, being lifted hence,
Even I, Piero, live to warm his place.
I tell you, lady, had you view’d us both
With an unpartial eye, when first we wooed
Your maiden beauties, I had borne the prize. 10
’Tis firm I had; for, fair, I ha’ done that——
Mar. [Aside.] Murder.
Pier. Which he would quake to have adventurèd;
Thou know’st I have——
Mar. [Aside.] Murder’d my husband.
Pier. Borne out the shock of war, and done—what not,
That valour durst? Dost love me, fairest? Say.
Mar. As I do hate my son, I love thy soul.
Pier. Why, then, Io[315] to Hymen, mount a lofty note!
Fill[316] red-cheek’d Bacchus, let Lyæus float 20
In burnish’d goblets! Force the plump-lipp’d god.
Skip light lavoltas[317] in your full-sapp’d veins!
’Tis well, brim full. Even I have glut of blood:
Let quaff carouse. I drink this Burdeaux wine
Unto the health of dead Andrugio,
Feliche, Strotzo, and Antonio’s ghosts.
[Aside.] Would I had some poison to infuse it with;
That having done this honour to the dead,
I might send one to give them notice on’t:
I would endear my favour to the full.— 30
Boy, sing aloud; make heaven’s vault to ring
With thy breath’s strength. I drink. Now loudly sing.
[A song. The song ended the cornets sound a senet.