INO. Unhand the prince, or else by heav'n he treads Into his grave that moves a foot to touch him. Madam, though Plangus' noble self was blind, And could not see the deep black darkness of Your hellish actions, his friends had eyes about them. Was this your love? this your repentance? This your advice, your counsel? Had I, I must confess,[100] And these his noble friends, been[101] rul'd by him, ere this He'd been a sacrifice to your revenge and you. Why stand you mute, sir? Want you a tongue to justify Your innocence our swords and we maintain? And now, my liege, we turn to you, whom we Have serv'd as truly as e'er subjects did Any prince alive; and whilst you're worthy, we Will do so still; but we'll be no man's slaves Alive, much less be his that is another's, While this base witch (for so she is) constrains You to do actions children would blush at, And wise men laugh at, which will after leave you Both to repentance and despair. This beggar, whom T'other day you took up as some lost thing, Gave your honour to, and in that our safety; That knew less to be good than devils do, And hath ills lodged in her that would make hell Beyond that the furies dwell in, Banish her hence, send her to some place Where murders, rapines, or sins yet Unheard of do inhabit, and where she can Do us no mischief. Do you betake yourself To your former virtue, and restore the prince To those affections you once had for him. We then perhaps may live to see Iberia happy. EPH. Why am I forc'd thus to declare his shame, Which at the bound strikes me, and's made my own? You know not how well Plangus can dissemble: He is an hypocrite, I need not tell you more, Those three syllables comprehend all ill. My queen just now 'scaped from his base attempt, Wherein he would have forc'd her to have damn'd Herself and him, and dishonoured me. What meant that armour on, and why so guarded? Where was a danger threat'ned him? or doth he Think his conscience could not sting him through it? I wish, my lords,[102] he might live. But, as nature That, as he is my son, bids me preserve him; So honour, which pleads to the king stronger Than nature can, tells me, for that very reason, I can less pardon him than something born A stranger to my blood. But I deserve To die, as well as he. If he be grown A burden to the earth, I am so too, That gave the monster being. Wherefore Let me be drawn to execution too, For fathers are guilty of their children's ills. INO. Would Plangus then have forc'd Andromana? Yes, so would Daphne have ravish'd Phoebus! I'll undertake goats are less salt than she. But for his armour:--can any man that breathes One common air with her not need an armour? Brass walls can't be security enough. Why speak you not, sir? are you dumb too?