LUCREZIA.
A prayer—
CESARE.
The oath
LUCREZIA.
I cannot, death is on me.... Oh, I faint....
[The Doctors press round.] A cordial....
CESARE.
No, a treaty!
[He lays the foot tenderly down and comes up close to Lucrezia’s ear.
All my foes—
You can lay them in the hollow of my hand;
Or, perishing, you can put out the fires....
And all the engines of my brain extinct!