_Gis._ Can you hear this unmov'd? No Syllable of this so pious charm, but should have power To frustrate all the juggling deceits, With which the Devil blinds you. _Otto._ I begin to melt, I know not how. _Rol._ Mother, I'le leave you; And, Sir, be thankful for the time you live, Till we meet next (which shall be soon and sudden) To her perswasion for you. _Soph._ O yet, stay, And rather than part thus, vouchsafe me hearing, As enemies; how is my soul divided? My love to both is equal, as my wishes; But are return'd by neither; my griev'd heart, Hold yet a little longer, and then break. I kneel to both, and will speak so, but this Takes from me th' authority of a mothers power; And therefore, like my self, _Otto_, to thee, (And yet observe, son, how thy mothers tears Outstrip her forward words, to make way for'em) Thou art the younger, _Otto_, yet be now The first example of obedience to me, And grow the elder in my love. _Otto._ The means to be so happy? _Soph._ This; yield up thy sword, And let thy piety give thy mother strength To take that from thee, which no enemies force Could e're despoil thee of: why do'st thou tremble, And with a fearful eye fixt on thy Brother, Observ'st his ready sword, as bent against thee? I am thy armour, and will be pierc'd through, Ten thousand times, before I will give way To any peril may arrive at thee; And therefore fear not. _Otto._ 'Tis not for my self, But for you, mother; you are now ingag'd In more tha[n] lies in your unquestion'd vertue; For, since you have disarm'd me of defence, Should I fall now, though by his hand, the world May say it was your practice.