_Are_. Sir, By that little life I have left to swear by, There's nothing that can stir me from my self. What I have done, I have done without repentance, For death can be no Bug-bear unto me, So long as _Pharamond_ is not my headsman. _Di_. Sweet peace upon thy soul, thou worthy maid When ere thou dyest; for this time I'le excuse thee, Or be thy Prologue. _Phi_. Sir, let me speak next, And let my dying words be better with you Than my dull living actions; if you aime At the dear life of this sweet Innocent, Y'are a Tyrant and a savage Monster; Your memory shall be as foul behind you As you are living, all your better deeds Shall be in water writ, but this in Marble: No Chronicle shall speak you, though your own, But for the shame of men. No Monument (Though high and big as _Pelion_) shall be able To cover this base murther; make it rich With Brass, with purest Gold, and shining Jasper, Like the Pyramids, lay on Epitaphs, Such as make great men gods; my little marble (That only cloaths my ashes, not my faults) Shall far out shine it: And for after issues Think not so madly of the heavenly wisdoms, That they will give you more, for your mad rage To cut off, unless it be some Snake, or something Like your self, that in his birth shall strangle you. Remember, my Father King; there was a fault, But I forgive it: let that sin perswade you To love this Lady. If you have a soul, Think, save her, and be saved, for my self, I have so long expected this glad hour, So languisht under you, and daily withered, That heaven knows it is my joy to dye, I find a recreation in't. _Enter a_ Messenger. _Mess_. Where's the King? _King_. Here. _Mess_. Get you to your strength, And rescue the Prince _Pharamond_ from danger, He's taken prisoner by the Citizens, Fearing the Lord _Philaster_. _Di_. Oh brave followers; Mutiny, my fine dear Country-men, mutiny, Now my brave valiant foremen, shew your weapons In honour of your Mistresses. [_Enter another_ Messenger. _Mess_. Arm, arm, arm. _King_. A thousand devils take 'em. _Di_. A thousand blessings on 'em. _Mess_. Arm O King, the City is in mutiny, Led by an old Gray Ruffin, who comes on In rescue of the Lord _Philaster_.