Ant. Away with that foul monster,
Dipp'd in a prince's blood.
4th Noble. Heart! 'tis a lie.
Ant. Let him have bitter execution.
Ven. New marrow! no, it cannot be express'd.[119]
How fares my lord the duke?
Lus. Farewell to all;
He that climbs highest has the greatest fall.
My tongue is out of office.
Ven. Air, gentlemen, air.
Now thou'lt not prate on't, 'twas Vendice murder'd thee.
[Whispers in his ear.
Lus. O!
Ven. Murder'd thy father. [Whispers.
Lus. O! [Dies.