Car. No, no, she'll die, nurse, for she said she would, an' she had not said so, 't had been another matter; but you know, nurse, she ne'er told a lie: I will believe her, for she speaks all truth.
Nurse. His memory begin's to fail him. Come, let's bear
This heavy spectacle from forth his presence;
The heavens will lend a hand, I hope, of comfort.
[Exeunt.
Carracus manet.
Car. See, how they steal away my fair Maria!
But I will follow after her, as far
As Orpheus did to gain his soul's delight;
And Pluto's self shall know, although I am not
Skilful in music, yet I can be mad,
And force my love's enjoyment, in despite
Of hell's black fury. But stay, stay, Carracus.
Where is thy knowledge and that rational sense,
Which heaven's great architect endued thee with?
All sunk beneath the weight of lumpish nature?
Are our diviner parts no noblier free,
Than to be tortur'd by the weak assailments
Of earthsprung griefs? Why is man, then, accounted
The head commander of this universe,
Next the Creator, when a little storm
Of nature's fury straight o'erwhelms his judgment?
But mine's no little storm, it is a tempest
So full of raging, self-consuming woe,
That nought but ruin follows expectation.
O my Maria, what unheard-of sin
Have any of thine ancestors enacted,
That all their shame should be pour'd thus on thee?
Or what incestuous spirit, cruel Albert,
Left hell's vast womb for to enter thee,
And do a mischief of such treachery?
Enter Nurse, weeping.
O nurse, how is it with Maria?
If e'er thy tongue did utter pleasing words,
Let it now do so, or hereafter e'er
Be dumb in sorrow.
Nurse. Good sir, take comfort; I am forced to speak
What will not please: your chaste wife, sir, is dead.
Car. 'Tis dead, indeed! how did you know 'twas so, nurse?
Nurse. What, sir?
Car. That my heart was dead: sure, thou hast serv'd
Dame Nature's self, and know'st the inward secrets
Of all our hidden powers: I'll love thee for't;
And, if thou wilt teach me that unknown skill,
Shalt see what wonders Carracus will do:
I'll dive into the breast of hateful Albert,
And see how his black soul is round encompass'd
By fearful fiends. O, I would do strange things!
I'd know to whose cause lawyers will incline
When they have[383] fees on both sides; view the thoughts
Of forlorn widows, when their knights have left them;
Search through the guts of greatness, and behold
What several sin best pleased them: thence I'd descend
Into the bowels of some pocky sir,
And tell to lechers all the pains he felt,
That they thereby might warned be from lust.
Troth, 'twill be rare! I'll study it presently.