They
are not carved with their eyes fix'd upon the stars, but as their
minds were wholly bent upon the world, the selfsame way they seem
to turn their faces.
DUCHESS. Let me know fully therefore the effect
Of this thy dismal preparation,
This talk fit for a charnel.
BOSOLA. Now I shall:--
[Enter Executioners, with] a coffin, cords, and a bell
Here is a present from your princely brothers;
And may it arrive welcome, for it brings
Last benefit, last sorrow.
DUCHESS. Let me see it:
I have so much obedience in my blood,
I wish it in their veins to do them good.
BOSOLA. This is your last presence-chamber.
CARIOLA. O my sweet lady!
DUCHESS. Peace; it affrights not me.
BOSOLA. I am the common bellman
That usually is sent to condemn'd persons
The night before they suffer.
DUCHESS. Even now thou said'st
Thou wast a tomb-maker.
BOSOLA. 'Twas to bring you
By degrees to mortification. Listen.
Hark, now everything is still,
The screech-owl and the whistler shrill
Call upon our dame aloud,
And bid her quickly don her shroud!
Much you had of land and rent;
Your length in clay 's now competent:
A long war disturb'd your mind;
Here your perfect peace is sign'd.
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