Fla. Mark! his fair daughter Flavia, ha, ha, ha!
Most shameless villain, how he counterfeits!
Ant. Know'st not thy father, old Antonio?
Is all the world grown frantic?
Fla. What, Antonio?
Ant. Thy loving father, Flavia.
Fla. My father!
Would thou wert in his place. Antonio's dead,
Dead, under water drown'd.
Ant. That dead and drown'd
Am I.
Fla. I love not to converse with dead men.
Ant. Ope the door, sweet Flavia.
Fla. Sir, I am afeard;
Horror incloses me, my hairs stand up,
I sweat to hear a dead man speak: you smell
Of putrefaction; fie! I feel't hither.
Ant. Th' art much abus'd; I live. Come down, and know me.