PHIL. Madam, my soul cannot consent to leave Your life in this great hazard, nor can death Carry such ugly shape, as doth the thought, That you are left in this extremity: Indeed, I will not leave you. MAR. Will you grow mad? what, shall your nobler spirit, Which is the school of wisdom, grow so fond[222] As to revolt from all our happiness? Our plots you know, and how to manage cares, Whose true events have true proportions; Then, dear lord, rest resolv'd--the jailer overhears-- Live you with safety. Most worthy maid, farewell. PHIL. Farewell, fair prince: thanks, master jailer, and a kind commend. JAILER. As much unto your ladyship. So now I'll lock my doors. [_Exeunt_ MARIANA, PHILOCLES, _and_ JAILER. _Enter_ CYPRUS, MECHANT, FLORIO, _and Attendants_. CYP. Is our commission, as we gave in charge, Delivered o'er to the corregidors? MECH. It is, and with such strictness and advice For speedy execution of the same, That by this time I know they are in the way Unto their execution; for the hour Of death doth run upon his latest minutes. CYP. 'Tis well: for till their shameless lives have end, There can no comfort creep into my thoughts, Or aught save mischief keep me company. Why was I born to this malignity And lowness of base fortune, yet my place Above the level of the vulgars' sight? O, it is but to let me know thus much, That those which lie within the richest graves Were at the best but fortune's glorious slaves. But see, here comes my shame. _Enter corregidors_, QUEEN _and_ MARIANA _disguised_ _like_ PHILOCLES, _both bound, and a guard of_ _halberts with the executioner_. QUEEN. My dearest lord. CYP. Pass, and respect me not, lascivious woman! Thy tears are like the tears of crocodiles.[223] See how I stop mine ears against thy plaints, And glue mine understanding from thy charms. Nay, call on him thou hast offended most; Mercy from me were worse than cruelty. QUEEN My dearest, dreadest, my best[224] sovereign, Whom I have ne'er offended, but with zeal And constant love, loyal and honourable, Vouchsafe me, though a queen, a subject's right, And let me know for what offence I perish. CYP. For thine adulterate and monstrous lust, Shameful and gross, and most unsufferable. QUEEN. Who doth accuse us? CYP. Ourself and our own soul, that have beheld Your vile and most lascivious passages.[225] MAR. O, that my tongue would not betray my knowledge! Then would I amaze them all with mine assertions. Madam, challenge the law. [_Whispers._