‘Brach. Oh! I am gone already. The infection
Flies to the brain and heart. O, thou strong heart,
There’s such a covenant ‘tween the world and thee,
They ‘re loth to part.
Giovanni. O my most lov’d father!
Brach. Remove the boy away:
Where’s this good woman? Had I infinite worlds,
They were too little for thee. Must I leave thee?
(To Vittoria).
What say you, screech-owls. (To the Physicians) Is the venom mortal?