Ant. Here.
And. Where?
Ant. Here.[145]
And. Art thou Antonio?
Ant. I think I am.
And. Dost thou but think? What, dost not know thyself?
Ant. He is a fool that thinks he knows himself.
And. Upon thy faith to heaven, give thy name. 100
Ant. I were not worthy of Andrugio’s blood,
If I denied my name’s Antonio.
And. I were not worthy to be call’d thy father,
If I denied my name Andrugio.
And dost thou live? O, let me kiss thy cheek,
And dew thy brow with trickling drops of joy.
Now heaven’s will be done: for I have lived
To see my joy, my son Antonio.
Give me thy hand; now fortune do thy worst,
His blood, that lapp’d thy spirit in the womb, 110
Thus (in his love) will make his arms thy tomb.