cry of Brachiano under the first sharp workings of the poison:
O thou strong heart!
There's such a covenant 'tween the world and it,
They're loath to break.
Another stroke well worthy of Shakespeare is the redeeming touch of grace in this brutal and cold-blooded ruffian which gives him in his agony a thought of tender care for the accomplice of his atrocities:
Do not kiss me, for I shall poison thee.
Few instances of Webster's genius are so well known as the brief but magnificent passage which follows; yet it may not be impertinent to cite it once again:
Brachiano. O thou soft natural death, that art joint twin
To sweetest slumber! no rough-bearded comet
Stares on thy mild departure; the dull owl
Beats not against thy casement; the hoarse wolf
Scents not thy carrion; pity winds thy corpse,
Whilst horror waits on princes.
Vittoria. I am lost forever.
Brachiano. How miserable a thing it is to die
'Mongst women howling!—What are those?
Flamineo. Franciscans:
They have brought the extreme unction.
Brachiano. On pain of death, let no man name death to me;
It is a word [? most] infinitely terrible.
