Volume Xi Part 141 (2/2)

SHAL. I thank you, sir; I'll not be strange. [_Exeunt._

_The Court._--_Enter_ KING, NICANOR.

KING. Nicanor, I would find some privy place, Where I might stand unseen, unknown of any, To hear th' arraignment of young Philocles.

NIC. The judges are now entering: please you, sir, Here to ascend: you may both hear and see.

KING. Well, I'll go up; And, like a jealous husband, hear and see That that will strike me dead. Am I a king, And cannot pardon such a small offence?

I cannot do't, nor am I Caesar now.

l.u.s.t has uncrown'd me, and my rash-ta'en oath Has reft me of a king's prerogative.

Come, come, Nicanor, help me to ascend, And see that fault that I want pow'r to mend. [_They ascend._

_Enter three_ JUDGES, VIRRO, POLYMETES, EUPHUES, FRANCISCO, LEUCOTHOe, CLERIMONT, ROSCIO.

1ST JUDGE. Bring forth the prisoner: where are the witnesses?

POL. Here, my lords. I am the wronged party, and the fact my man here, besides the officers that took them, can justify.

2D JUDGE. That's enough.

_Enter_ PHILOCLES, _with a guard_.

1ST JUDGE. Philocles, stand to the bar, and answer to such crimes, As shall be here objected 'gainst thy life.

Read the indictment.

PHIL. Spare that labour; I do confess the fact that I am charg'd with, And speak as much as my accusers can-- As much as all the witnesses can prove.

'Twas I that stole away the daughter and heir Of Lord Polymetes, which were't to do again, Rather than lose her, I again would venture.

This was the fact: your sentence, honour'd fathers.

CLER. 'Tis brave and resolute.

1ST JUDGE. A heavy sentence, n.o.ble Philocles; And such a one as I could wish myself Off from this place some other might deliver.

You must die for it: death is your sentence.

PHIL. Which I embrace with willingness. Now, my lord, Is your hate glutted yet, or is my life [_To_ POLYMETES.

Too poor a sacrifice to appease the rancour Of your inveterate malice? If it be too,[438]

Invent some scandal, that may after blot My reputation. Father, dry your tears, [_To_ EUPHUES.

Weep not for me; my death shall leave no stain Upon your blood, nor blot on your fair name.

The honour'd ashes of my ancestors May still rest quiet in their tear-wet urns For any fact of mine. I might have liv'd, If heaven had not prevented it, and found Death for some foul dishonourable act.

Brother, farewell; no sooner have I found [_To_ FRANCISCO.

But I must leave thy wish'd-for company.

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