_Mat._ Good Madam, stand not so inclin'd to trust What proves his tendrest thoughts to doubt it just, Who knows not the unbounded flood and sea, In which my Brother _Rollo_'s appetites Alter and rage with every puffe and breath? His swelling blood exhales, and therefore hear, What gives my temperate Brother cause to use His readiest circumspection, and consult For remedy against all his wicked purposes; If he arm, arm, if he strew mines of treason, Meet him with countermines, it is justice still (For goodness sake) t'encounter ill with ill. _Sop._ Avert from us such justice, equal heaven, And all such cause of justice. _Ot._ Past all doubt (For all the sacred privilege of night) This is no time for us to sleep or rest in; Who knows not all things holy are prevented With ends of all impietie, all but Lust, gain, ambition. _Enter_ Rollo, _armed, and_ Latorch. _Rol._ Perish all the world E're I but lose one foot of possible Empire, Be slights and colour us'd by slaves and wretches, I am exempt by birth from both these curbs, And since above them in all justice, since I sit above in power, where power is given, Is all the right suppos'd of Earth and Heaven. _Lat._ Prove both Sir, see the traytor. _Ot._ He comes arm'd, see Mother, now your confidence. _Sop._ What rage affects this monster? _Rol._ Give me way or perish. _Sop._ Make thy way viper, if thou thus affect it. _Ot._ This is a treason like thee. _Rol._ Let her go. _Sop._ Embrace me, wear me as thy shield, my Son; And through my breast let his rude weapon run, To thy lives innocence. _Ot._ Play not two parts, Treacher and coward both; but yield a sword, And let thy arming thee be odds enough Against my naked bosom. _Rol._ Loose his hold. _Mat._ Forbear base murtherer. _Rol._ Forsake our Mother. _Sop._ Mother, dost thou name me, and put'st off nature thus? _Rol._ Forsake her traytour, Or by the spouse of nature through hers This leads unto thy heart. _Ot._ Hold. _Sop._ Hold me still. _Ot._ For twenty hearts and lives I will not hazard One drop of blood in yours. _Sop._ Oh thou art lost then. _Ot._ Protect my innocence, Heaven. _Sop._ Call out murther. _Mat._ Be murthered all, but save him. _Ed._ Murther, murther. _Rol._ Cannot I reach you yet? _Ot._ No, fiend. _Rol._ _Latorch_, rescue, I'me down. _Lat._ Up then, your sword cools Sir, Ply it i'th' flame, and work your ends out. _Rol._ Ha, have at [you] there Sir. _Enter_ Aubrey. _Aub._ Author of prodigies, what sights are these? _Ot._ Oh give me a weapon, _Aubrey_. _Sop._ Oh part 'em, part 'em. _Aub._ For Heavens sake no more.