SUP. Why, was't not my invention, brother, To slip the judges? and in lesser compass Did not I draw the model of his death; Advising you to sudden officers And e'en extemporal execution? AMB. Heart! 'twas a thing I thought on too. SUP. You thought on't too! 'sfoot, slander not your thoughts With glorious untruth; I know 'twas from you. AMB. Sir, I say, 'twas in my head. SUP. Ay, like your brains then, Ne'er to come out as long as you liv'd. AMB. You'd have the honour on't, forsooth, that your wit Led him to the scaffold. SUP. Since it is my due, I'll publish't, but I'll ha't in spite of you. AMB. Methinks, y' are much too bold; you should a little Remember us, brother, next to be honest duke. SUP. Ay, it shall be as easy for you to be duke As to be honest; and that's never, i' faith. AMB. Well, cold he is by this time; and because We're both ambitious, be it our amity, And let the glory be shar'd equally. SUP. I am content to that. AMB. This night our younger brother shall out of prison: I have a trick. SUP. A trick! prythee, what is't? AMB. We'll get him out by a wile. SUP. Prythee, what wile? AMB. No, sir; you shall not know it, till it be done; For then you'd swear 'twere yours. _Enter an_ OFFICER. SUP. How now, what's he? AMB. One of the officers. SUP. Desired news. AMB. How now, my friend? OFFICER. My lords, under your pardon, I am allotted To that desertless office, to present you With the yet bleeding head-- SUP. Ha, ha! excellent. AMB. All's sure our own: brother, canst weep, think'st thou? 'Twould grace our flattery much; think of some dame: 'Twill teach thee to dissemble. SUP. I have thought;--now for yourself. AMB. Our sorrows are so fluent, Our eyes o'erflow our tongues; words spoke in tears Are like the murmurs of the waters--the sound Is loudly heard, but cannot be distinguish'd. SUP. How died he, pray? OFFICER. O, full of rage and spleen. SUP. He died most valiantly, then; we're glad to hear it. OFFICER. We could not woo him once to pray. AMB. He show'd himself a gentleman in that: Give him his due. OFFICER. But, in the stead of prayer, He drew forth oaths. SUP. Then did he pray, dear heart, Although you understood him not? OFFICER. My lords, E'en at his last, with pardon be it spoke, He curs'd you both. SUP. He curs'd us? 'las, good soul! AMB. It was not in our powers, but the duke's pleasure. Finely dissembled a both sides, sweet fate; O happy opportunity! [_Aside._ _Enter_ LUSURIOSO. LUS. Now, my lords. BOTH. O!------