_Monsieur._ Else Heaven forgive not me! Come on, brave friend! 140 If ever Nature held her selfe her owne, When the great triall of a King and subject Met in one bloud, both from one belly springing, Now prove her vertue and her greatnesse one, Or make the t'one the greater with the t'other, 145 (As true Kings should) and for your brothers love (Which is a speciall species of true vertue) Doe that you could not doe, not being a King. _Henr._ Brother, I know your suit; these wilfull murthers Are ever past our pardon. _Mons._ Manly slaughter 150 Should never beare th'account of wilfull murther, It being a spice of justice, where with life Offending past law equall life is laid In equall ballance, to scourge that offence By law of reputation, which to men 155 Exceeds all positive law; and what that leaves To true mens valours (not prefixing rights Of satisfaction suited to their wrongs) A free mans eminence may supply and take. _Henr._ This would make every man that thinks him wrong'd, 160 Or is offended, or in wrong or right, Lay on this violence; and all vaunt themselves Law-menders and supplyers, though meere butchers, Should this fact, though of justice, be forgiven. _Mons._ O no, my Lord! it would make cowards feare 165 To touch the reputations of true men. When only they are left to impe the law, Justice will soone distinguish murtherous minds From just revengers. Had my friend beene slaine, His enemy surviving, he should die, 170 Since he had added to a murther'd fame (Which was in his intent) a murthered man; And this had worthily beene wilfull murther; But my friend only sav'd his fames deare life, Which is above life, taking th'under value 175 Which in the wrong it did was forfeit to him; And in this fact only preserves a man In his uprightnesse, worthy to survive Millions of such as murther men alive. _Henr._ Well, brother, rise, and raise your friend withall 180 From death to life: and, D'Ambois, let your life (Refin'd by passing through this merited death) Be purg'd from more such foule pollution; Nor on your scape, nor valour, more presuming To be again so violent.