_Du._ Dares he touch his Body? _Gent._ He racks him fearfully, most fearfully. _Du._ Away _Burris_, Take men, and take him from him; clap him up, And if I live, I'll find a strange death for him. [_Ex._ Bur. Are the Souldiers broke in? _Gent._ By this time sure they are, Sir, They beat the Gates extreamly, beat the people. _Du._ Get me a guard about me; make sure the lodgings, And speak the Souldiers fair. _Gent._ Pray Heaven that take, Sir. [_Exeunt._ _Enter_ Putskie, _Ancient, Souldiers, with Torches_. _Puts._ Give us the General, we'll fire the Court else, Render him safe and well. _Anc._ Do not fire the Cellar, There's excellent Wine in't, Captain, and though it be cold weather, I do not love it mull'd; bring out the General, We'll light ye such a Bone-fire else: where are ye? Speak, or we'll toss your Turrets, peep out of your Hives, We'll smoak ye else: Is not that a Nose there? Put out that Nose again, and if thou dar'st But blow it before us: now he creeps out on's Burrough. _Enter Gentleman._ _Puts._ Give us the General. _Gent._ Yes, Gentlemen; Or any thing ye can desire. _Anc._ You musk-cat, Cordevant-skin we will not take your answer. _Puts._ Where is the Duke? speak suddenly, and send him hither. _Anc._ Or we'll so frye your Buttocks. _Gent._ Good sweet Gentlemen-- _Anc._ We are neither good nor sweet, we are Souldiers, And you miscreants that abuse the General. Give fire my Boys, 'tis a dark Evening, Let's light 'em to their lodgings. _Enter_ Olympia, Honora, Viola, Theodore, _Women_. _Hon._ Good Brother be not fierce. _The._ I will not hurt her, Fear not sweet Lady. _Olym._ Nay, do what you please, Sir, I have a sorrow that exceeds all yours, And more, contemns all danger. _Enter Duke, above._ _The._ Where is the Duke? _Du._ He's here; what would ye Souldiers? wherefore troop ye Like mutinous mad-men thus? _The._ Give me my Father. _Puts. Anc._ Give us our General. _The._ Set him here before us, Ye see the pledge we have got; ye see the Torches; All shall to ashes, as I live, immediately, A thousand lives for one. _Du._ But hear me? _Puts._ No, we come not to dispute. _Enter_ Archas, _and_ Burris. _The._ By Heaven I swear he's rackt and whipt. _Hon._ Oh my poor Father! _Puts._ Burn, kill and burn. _Arc._ Hold, hold, I say: hold Souldiers, On your allegiance hold. _The._ We must not. _Arc._ Hold: I swear by Heaven he is a barbarous Traitor stirs first, A Villain, and a stranger to Obedience, Never my Souldier more, nor Friend to Honour: Why did you use your old Man thus? thus cruelly Torture his poor weak Body? I ever lov'd ye. _Du._ Forget me in these wrongs, most noble _Archas_.