ANTONIO. O, 'tis far from me: and yet fear presents me
Somewhat that looks like danger.

DELIO. Believe it,
'Tis but the shadow of your fear, no more:
How superstitiously we mind our evils!
The throwing down salt, or crossing of a hare,
Bleeding at nose, the stumbling of a horse,
Or singing of a cricket, are of power
To daunt whole man in us. Sir, fare you well:
I wish you all the joys of a bless'd father;
And, for my faith, lay this unto your breast,--
Old friends, like old swords, still are trusted best.
[Exit.]

[Enter CARIOLA]

CARIOLA. Sir, you are the happy father of a son:
Your wife commends him to you.

ANTONIO. Blessed comfort!--
For heaven' sake, tend her well: I 'll presently<49>
Go set a figure for 's nativity.<50>
Exeunt.


Scene III<51>

[Enter BOSOLA, with a dark lantern]