Mes. Madam, Madam

Cleo. Anthonyo's dead.
If thou say so Villaine, thou kil'st thy Mistris:
But well and free, if thou so yeild him.
There is Gold, and heere
My blewest vaines to kisse: a hand that Kings
Haue lipt, and trembled kissing

Mes. First Madam, he is well

Cleo. Why there's more Gold.
But sirrah marke, we vse
To say, the dead are well: bring it to that,
The Gold I giue thee, will I melt and powr
Downe thy ill vttering throate

Mes. Good Madam heare me

Cleo. Well, go too I will:
But there's no goodnesse in thy face if Anthony
Be free and healthfull; so tart a fauour
To trumpet such good tidings. If not well,
Thou shouldst come like a Furie crown'd with Snakes,
Not like a formall man

Mes. Wilt please you heare me?
Cleo. I haue a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st:
Yet if thou say Anthony liues, 'tis well,