_Ed._ You must hear me If there be any spark of pity in you, If sweet humanity and mercy rule you; I do confess you are a Prince, your anger As great as you, your Execution greater. _Rol._ Away with him. _Ed._ Oh Captain, by thy manhood, By her soft soul that bare thee, I do confess, Sir, Your doom of justice on your foes most righteous; Good noble Prince look on me. _Rol._ Take her from me. _Ed._ A curse upon his life that hinders me; May Fathers Blessing never fall upon him, May Heaven never hear his Prayers: I beseech you, Oh Sir, these few tears beseech you; these chast hands woo you, That never yet were heav'd but to things holy, Things like your self, you are a god above us; Be as a God then, full of saving mercy; Mercy, Oh mercy, for his sake mercy; That when your stout heart weeps shall give you pity; Here I must grow. _Rol._ By Heaven, I'll strike thee, woman. _Ed._ Most willingly, let all thy anger seek me, All the most studied torments, so this good man, This old man, and this innocent escape thee. _Rol._ Carry him away I say. _Ed._ Now blessing on thee, Oh sweet pity, I see it in thy Eyes, I charge you Souldiers Even by the Princes power, release my Father, The Prince is merciful, why do you hold him? He is old, why do you hurt him? speak, Oh speak, Sir; Speak as you are a man; a mans life hangs, Sir, A friends life, and a foster life upon you: 'Tis but a word, but mercy quickly spoke, Sir; Oh speak, Prince, speak. _Rol._ Will no man here obey me? Have I no rule yet? as I live he dyes That does not execute my will, and suddenly. _Bal._ All that thou canst do takes but one short hour from me. _Rol._ Hew off her hands. _Ham._ Lady hold off. _Ed._ Nay, hew 'em, Hew off my innocent hands as he commands you. [_Exeunt Guard, Count_ Baldwin. They'll hang the faster on for Deaths convulsion. Thou seed of Rocks, will nothing move thee then? Are all my tears lost? all my righteous Prayers Drown'd in thy drunken wrath? I stand thus then, Thus boldly, bloody Tyrant, And to thy face in Heavens high Name defie thee; And may sweet mercy when thy soul sighs for it, When under thy black mischiefs thy flesh trembles, When neither strength, nor youth, nor friends, nor gold Can stay one hour, when thy most wretched Conscience Wak'd from her dream of death, like fire shall melt thee, When all thy Mothers tears, thy Brothers wounds, Thy Peoples fears and curses, and my loss, My aged fathers loss shall stand before thee. _Rol._ Save him I say, run, save him, save her Father, Fly, and redeem his head. [_Exit_ Latorch.