SUP. We must needs confess. Some fathers would have entered into hate So deadly-pointed, that before his eyes He would ha' seen the execution sound[64] Without corrupted favour. AMB. But, my lord, Your grace may live the wonder of all times, In pard'ning that offence, which never yet Had face to beg a pardon. DUKE. How's this? AMB. Forgive him, good my lord; he's your own son: And I must needs say, 'twas the viler done. SUP. He's the next heir: yet this true reason gathers, None can possess that dispossess their fathers. Be merciful!-- DUKE. Here's no step-mother's wit; I'll try them both upon their love and hate. [_Aside._ AMB. Be merciful--although-- DUKE. You have prevailed. My wrath, like flaming wax, hath spent itself; I know 'twas but some peevish moon[65] in him; Go, let him be releas'd. SUP. 'Sfoot, how now, brother? AMB. Your grace doth please to speak beside your spleen; I would it were so happy. DUKE. Why, go, release him. SUP. O my good lord! I know the fault's too weighty And full of general loathing: too inhuman, Rather by all men's voices worthy death. DUKE. 'Tis true too, here, then, receive this signet. Doom shall pass; Direct it to the judges; he shall die Ere many days. Make haste. AMB. All speed that may be. We could have wish'd his burden not so sore: We knew your grace did but delay before. [_Exeunt._ DUKE. Here's envy[66] with a poor thin cover o'er't; Like scarlet hid in lawn, easily spied through. This their ambition by the mother's side Is dangerous, and for safety must be purg'd, I will prevent their envies; sure it was But some mistaken fury in our son, Which these aspiring boys would climb upon: He shall be releas'd suddenly. _Enter_ NOBLES. 1ST NOBLE. Good morning to your grace. DUKE. Welcome, my lords. 2D NOBLE. Our knees shall take Away the office of our feet for ever, Unless your grace bestow a father's eye Upon the clouded fortunes of your son, And in compassionate virtue grant him that, Which makes e'en mean men happy--liberty. DUKE. How seriously their loves and honours woo For that which I am about to pray them do! Arise,[67] my lords; your knees sign his release. We freely pardon him. 1ST NOBLE. We owe your grace much thanks, and he much duty. [_Exeunt._