all the symptoms of an hysterical gentlewoman:
Luc. Sure 'twas the clash of swords! my troubled heart!
Is so cast down, and sunk amidst its sorrows,
It throbs with fear, and akes at every sound!
And immediately her old whimsy returns upon her;
O Marcia, should thy brothers, for my sake—
I die away with horror at the thought.
She fancies that there can be no cutting-of-throats, but it must be for her. If this is tragical, I would fain know what is comical. Well! upon this they spy the body of Sempronius; and Marcia, deluded by the habit, it seems, takes him for Juba; for, says she,
The face is muffled up within the garment.
Now, how a man could fight, and fall with his face muffled up in his garment, is, I think, a little hard to conceive! Besides, Juba, before he killed him, knew him to be Sempronius. It was not by his garment that he knew this; it was by his face then: his face therefore was not muffled. Upon seeing
