O mighty king, vouchsafe your grace My father to remit; Forgive his fault, his pardon I Do ask of you as yet. Alas, although my father hath Your princely heart offended, Amends for miss he will now make, And faults shall be amended. Instead of his requested life, Pleaseth your grace take mine: This offer I as tender child, So duty doth me bind. KING. Do not entreat my grace no more, For he shall die the death; Where is the execution-man, Him to bereave of breath? _Enter_ EXECUTION. EXECUTION. At hand and, if it like your grace, My duty to dispatch; In hope that I, when deed is done, A good reward shall catch. KING. Dispatch with sword this judge’s life, Extinguish fear and cares: So done, draw thou his cursed skin Straight over both his ears. I will see the office done, And that before mine eyes. EXECUTION. To do the thing my king commands, I give the enterprise. SISAMNES. Otian, my son, the king to death By law hath me condemned; And you in room and office mine His grace’s will hath placed: Use justice therefore in this case, And yield unto no wrong, Lest thou do purchase the like death, Ere ever it be long. OTIAN. O father dear, these words to hear, That thou must die by force, Bedews my cheeks with stilled tears; The king hath no remorse. The grievous grief and strained sighs My heart doth break in twain, And I deplore, most woful child, That I should see you slain. O false and fickle frowning dame, That turneth as the wind, Is this the joy in father’s age, Thou me assign’st to find? O doleful day, unhappy hour, That loving child should see: His father dear before his face, Thus put to death should be. Yet, father, give me blessing thine, And let me once embrace Thy comely corpse in folded arms, And kiss thy ancient face. SISAMNES. O child, thou makes mine eyes to run, As rivers do, by stream; My leave I take of thee, my son, Beware of this my beam. KING. Dispatch even now, thou man of death; No longer seem to stay. EXECUTION. Come, Master Sisamnes, come on your way, My office I must pay; Forgive therefore my deed. SISAMNES. I do forgive it thee, my friend; Dispatch therefore with speed. [_Smite him in the neck with a sword to signify his death._ PRAXASPES. Behold (O king), how he doth bleed, Being of life bereft. KING.