name death to me:
It is a word infinitely terrible.
Withdraw into our cabinet.
[Exeunt all but Francisco and Flamineo.

Flam. To see what solitariness is about dying princes! as heretofore
they have unpeopled towns, divorced friends, and made great houses
unhospitable, so now, O justice! where are their flatterers now?
flatterers are but the shadows of princes' bodies; the least thick
cloud makes them invisible.

Fran. There 's great moan made for him.

Flam. 'Faith, for some few hours salt-water will run most plentifully
in every office o' th' court; but, believe it, most of them do weep
over their stepmothers' graves.

Fran. How mean you?

Flam. Why, they dissemble; as some men do that live without compass o'
th' verge.

Fran. Come, you have thrived well under him.

Flam. 'Faith, like a wolf in a woman's breast; I have been fed with
poultry: but for money, understand me, I had as good a will to cozen
him as e'er an officer of them all; but I had not cunning enough to do
it.

Fran. What didst thou think of him? 'faith, speak freely.

Flam. He was a kind of statesman, that would sooner have reckoned how
many cannon-bullets he had discharged against a town, to count his
expense that way, than think how many of his valiant and deserving
subjects he lost before it.

Fran. Oh, speak well of the duke!

Flam. I have done. [Enter Lodovico.
Wilt hear some of my court-wisdom? To reprehend princes is dangerous;
and to over-commend some of them is palpable lying.

Fran. How is it with the duke?

Lodo. Most deadly ill.
He 's fallen into a strange distraction:
He talks of battles and monopolies,
Levying of taxes; and from that descends
To the most brain-sick language. His mind fastens
On twenty several objects, which confound
Deep sense with folly. Such a fearful end
May teach some men that bear too lofty crest,
Though they live happiest yet they die not best.
He hath conferr'd the whole state of the dukedom
Upon your sister, till the prince arrive
At mature age.

Flam. There 's some good luck in that yet.

Fran. See, here he comes.
[Enter Brachiano, presented in a bed, Vittoria and others.
There 's death in 's face already.

Vit. Oh, my good lord!

Brach. Away, you have abus'd me:
[These