_Duke_. Forgeries and lies. My daughters honour is of that high prize That I preferre it 'fore a traitors braine. Let it suffice, we know she hath deni'd thee And some denied (like devills) turne their love Into excrutiation of themselves And of the parties whom they have belov'd. Revenge begins where flatteries doe end; Being not her husband, thou wilt be no friend. Thus is thy policy by heaven prevented: Therefore henceforth we banish thee our Court; Our Court? our territorie, every place Wherein we beare the state of Royaltie. Urge no replie, the fact is plainely prov'd, And thou art hatefull where thou wert belov'd. _Mon_. My gracious Lord-- _Duke_. We can afford no grace: Stay here, and reade thy ruine in my face. _Mon_. I goe contented with this heavy doome; 'Twas mine owne seeking. Faire and wise, adiew; Deceit hath kil'd conceit, you know tis true. [_Exit_.[168] _Fre_. An upright sentence of an act so vilde. _Duk_. Remove this waiting virgin from your chamber, But let this gentleman attend on me. The best may be deceiv'd by trecherie. _Euph_. Then so, my gracious father, may this maid. _Duke_. Then let her keep her place; beware of gold, Honour's too precious to be baselie sold.-- Now to our dying friend, his grace of _Meath_. Daughter, prepare you; you shall ride along, For to that end we came; come, sonne, to horse: Ere we come there, our friend may prove a coarse. _Euph_.--Twas well done both, this action rarely fell; Where women trie their wits, bad plots prove well. [_Exeunt omnes_. [SCENE 2.] _Enter three Beggers_. 1. Come away, fellow louse, thou art ever eating. 2. Have I not neede, that must feede so many _Cannibals_ as will waite on me whether I will or no? 3. Heres one in my necke, I would 'twere on thy shoulder. 1. Keepe it your selfe, I have retainers enow of mine owne. 2. But whether are you going now? 1. Why, are you our King, and doe not know that? 2. Your King? I am a very roguish King and I hav a companie of lowsie subjects. _Enter Hatto and Alfrid conferring_. 2. But looke about my ragged subjects, here comes somebody. 1. O the devills; shall we aske them an almes? 2. Why not? now the rats have eaten up their brother Bishop they will be more charitable; your vocation, you slaves. 3. For the Lord sake, be pittifull to a companie of poore men. _Hatto_. What cry is this? beggars so neere the doore Of our deceased brother? whip them hence Or bring the Mastiffe foorth [to] worry them. They are lazie drones, 'tis pittie such should live. 1. I told you, my Lord, how we should find them; whip us! leade the way, soveraigne, weele none of your whipping. _Hat_. Hence with these dogs! what make they neere this house? 2. He will be eaten with rats too, he looks like a piece of cheese alreadie. _Hat_. You Rogues. _Alf_. Good brother, stay your self from wrath; Thinke on the Bishop and his odious death.