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'Twould make a pander's heels ache. I'll be sworn

All my teeth chatter in my head to see't.

TYRANT

By th' mass, thou'rt cold indeed! Beshrew thee for't!

Unkind to thine own blood? Hard-hearted lady!

What injury hast thou offered to the youth

And pleasure of thy days! Refuse the court

And steal to this hard lodging: was that wisdom?

Oh, I could chide thee with mine eye brimful,

And weep out my forgiveness when I ha' done!

Nothing hurt thee but want of woman's counsel:

Hadst thou but asked th' opinion of most ladies,

Thou'dst never come to this; they would have told thee

How dear a treasure life and youth had been.

'Tis that they fear to lose; the very name

Can make more gaudy tremblers in a minute

Than heaven or sin or hell: those are last thought on.

And where got'st thou such boldness from the rest

Of all thy timorous sex, to do a deed here

Upon thyself would plunge the world's best soldier

And make him twice bethink him, and again,

And yet give over? Since thy life has left me,

I'll clasp the body for the spirit that dwelt in't,

And love the house still for the mistress' sake.

Thou art mine now, spite of destruction

And Govianus, and I will possess thee.

I once read of a Herod, whose affection

Pursued a virgin's love, as I did thine,

Who for the hate she owed him killed herself,

As thou too rashly didst, without all pity.

Yet he preserved her body dead in honey,

And kept her long after her funeral.

But I'll unlock the treasure house of art

With keys of gold, and bestow all on thee.

Here, slaves, receive her humbly from our arms.

Upon your knees, you villains! All's too little

If you should sweep the pavement with your lips.

FIRST SOLDIER

[Aside] What strange brooms he invents!

TYRANT

So reverently

Bear her before us gently to our palace.

Place you the stone again where first we found it.

Exeunt [with body]. Manet First Soldier.

FIRST SOLDIER

Life, must this on now to deceive all comers

And covet emptiness? 'Tis for all the world

Like a great city-pie brought to a table

Where there be many hands that lay about:

The lid's shut close when all the meat's picked out,

Yet stands to make a show and cozen people.

Exit.

ACT IV.iv. The Lady's tomb

Enter Govianus in black, a book in his hand, his Page carrying a torch before him.

GOVIANUS

Already mine eye melts. The monument

No sooner stood before it but a tear

Ran swiftly from me to express her duty.

Temple of honour, I salute thee early,

The time that my griefs rise. Chamber of peace,

Where wounded virtue sleeps locked from the world,

I bring to be acquainted with thy silence

Sorrows that love no noise; they dwell all inward,

Where truth and love in every man should dwell.

Be ready, boy; give me the strain again.

'Twill show well here; whilst in my grief's devotion

At every rest mine eye lets fall a bead

To keep the number perfect.

Govianus kneels at the tomb [wondrous] passionately. His Page sings.

The song.

If ever pity were well placed

On true desert and virtuous honour,

It could ne'er be better graced;

Freely then bestow 't upon her.

Never lady earned her fame

In virtue's war with greater strife;

To preserve her constant name

She gave up beauty, youth, and life.

There she sleeps,

And here he weeps,

The lord unto so rare a wife.

Weep, weep, and mourn lament,

You virgins that pass by her,

For if praise come by death again,

I doubt few will lie nigh her.

GOVIANUS

Thou art an honest boy. 'Tis done like one

That has a feeling of his master's passions

And the unmatched worth of his dead mistress.

Thy better years shall find me good to thee,

When understanding ripens in thy soul,

Which truly makes the man, and not long time.

Prithee withdraw a little, and attend me

At cloister door.

PAGE

It shall be done, my lord.

[Exit.]

GOVIANUS

Eternal maid of honour, whose chaste body

Lies here like virtue's close and hidden seed,

To spring forth glorious to eternity

At the everlasting harvest--

WITHIN

I am not here.

GOVIANUS