_Arc._ I have balm enough for all my hurts: weep no more Sir A satisfaction for a thousand sorrows; I do believe you innocent, a good man, And Heaven forgive that naughty thing that wrong'd me: Why look ye wild, my friends? why stare ye on me? I charge ye, as ye are men, my men, my lovers, As ye are honest faithful men, fair Souldiers, Let down your anger: Is not this our Soveraign? The head of mercy, and of Law? who dares then, But Rebels, scorning Law, appear thus violent? Is this a place for Swords? for threatning fires? The Reverence of this House dares any touch, But with obedient knees, and pious duties? Are we not all his Subjects? all sworn to him? Has not he power to punish our offences? And do we not daily fall into 'em? assure your selves I did offend, and highly, grievously, This good, sweet Prince I offended, my life forfeited, Which yet his mercy and his old love met with, And only let me feel his light rod this way: Ye are to thank him for your General, Pray for his life and fortune; swear your bloods for him. Ye are offenders too, daily offenders, Proud insolencies dwell in your hearts, and ye do 'em, Do 'em against his Peace, his Law, his Person; Ye see he only sorrows for your sins, And where his power might persecute, forgives ye: For shame put up your Swords, for honesty, For orders sake, and whose ye are, my Souldiers, Be not so rude. _The._ They have drawn blood from you, Sir. _Arc._ That was the blood rebell'd, the naughty blood, The proud provoking blood; 'tis well 'tis out, Boy; Give you example first; draw out, and orderly. _Hon._ Good Brother, do. _Arc._ Honest and high example, As thou wilt have my Blessing follow thee, Inherit all mine honours: thank ye _Theodore_, My worthy Son. _The._ If harm come, thank your self, Sir, I must obey ye. [_Exit._ _Arc._ Captain, you know the way now: A good man, and a valiant, you were ever, Inclin'd to honest things; I thank ye, Captain. [_Ex. Soul._ Souldiers, I thank ye all: and love me still, But do not love me so you lose Allegiance, Love that above your lives: once more I thank ye. _Du._ Bring him to rest, and let our cares wait on him; Thou excellent old man, thou top of honour, Where Justice, and Obedience only build, Thou stock of Vertue, how am I bound to love thee! In all thy noble ways to follow thee! _Bur._ Remember him that vext him, Sir. _Du._ Remember? When I forget that Villain, and to pay him For all his mischiefs, may all good thoughts forget me. _Arc._ I am very sore. _Du._ Bring him to Bed with ease, Gentlemen, For every stripe I'll drop a tear to wash 'em, And in my sad Repentance-- _Arc._ 'Tis too much, I have a life yet left to gain that love, Sir. [_Exeunt._ _Actus Quintus. Scena Prima._ _Enter Duke_, Burris, _and Gentlemen_.