Soph. By the bless'd sun 'tis false! I am no

traitor;

As loyal as the truest subject here;

Yet there is poison in't, of power and strength
To make a father's heart to swell and burst
At the recital of such tyranny.

Thy daughter's chaste, a royal spotless princess;
She here doth vow, and call the gods to witness,
She ne'er admitted him unto her bed,
Until the nuptial rites were celebrate
Yet, tyrant like, thou puts her unto sea,
Not suffering her to plead her innocence,
Where she and her poor babe did suffer death.

Phean. Dissembling hypocrite! art not asham'd To lay such shallow baits to catch a crown? Observe what a discover'd way he treads, Thinking her dead,

(Which all you know she justly merited); Has forged this letter

To turn your [faithful] hearts with seeming pity
To dispossess us, and be king himself:

But you, whose hearts have ever yet been loyal,
Know how to censure of such treachery,
With true discretion. Pray ye use him kindly;
Let him not feel too many cruel tortures;
He is our brother; though he have transgress'd
The law of gods and nature, we are loath
To punish with too much severity.

Soph. Ha! ha! ha! Now give me leave to laugh.
Devouring crocodile, dost think I fear to die?
Let death fright those that fear to die for ever:
Let me behold him in his ugliest shape,
He's then most lovely;

If I did fear, I'd ne'er have uttered this;

It was to clear thy daughter's innocence,
And blaze thy infamy unto the world;
For this I did it; if for this I die,

I die for truth, live with eternity.

Phean. Take him aside until we call for him. Soph. Do not touch me, slaves, I scorn to run. [Exit Guard with Sophos. Phean. Your counsel, Lords, what we [had] best to do;

You see his guilt apparently appears :

We dare not call a public consultation
For fear of the infection: unto you
We will refer the manner of his death.
Here seat yourselves, and every man set down
His several censure; which when we survey,
We'll give our sentence, either life or death,

[Exit.

[They seat themselves at a table severally, and fall to writing.

Enter a SICILIAN LORD.

Sicil. L. I think this be the land of Golgotha, Inhabited by none but by the dead,

Except some airy shadows, and they're silent:
The streets are strewed with breathless carcases,
As 'twas in Rome when Marius Sylla warred.
All that do see me shun me like the plague,
And shut their doors: sure I am not infectious.
Entering the court, the guard stood gazing at me,
And gave me free access into the palace,
Without demanding whence, or what I came for:
The strangeness of their looks and fearful actions,
Makes me imagine that I am transformed.
Would I could meet but with a water-spring,

To see if I retain my wonted shape!

This should be near the presence;-what are these?

They should be lawyers; they're not dumb, I'm

sure.

1 Lord. What's he?

2 Lord. Some stranger.

3 Lord. How came he in the guard? Sicil. L. They speak, I'll try if they can hear. 1 Lord. Keep back: who are you?

The cause of your approach so near the king?
Sicil. L. Your outsides speak you noble.
Know, my lords,

The cause of my arrival in this land,
Is in the search of princely Radagon,
Now son and heir to the Sicilian King;
If ever you did hear of such a prince,
Let not fore-passed hate extinguish him,
But glad an aged father with a son,
Who now is all the children he hath left.
They shake their heads, and weep: Good gods,
I fear

They've ta'en away his life by tyranny.

Enter PHEANDER dressed.

Phean. What stranger's that? What makes him in our court?

What, are you dumb? Why do you not resolve us?
1 Lord. He is a subject to Sicilia's king,
And comes in search of banish'd Radagon.
Sicil. L. How! banish'd?

Phean. Ay, sir, banish'd:

And 'twas too mild a satisfaction

For the base wrongs that I sustained by him:
In a small boat, hopeless of help or life,
He was put forth to sea by our command.
This you may tell your king; and so be gone.
Sicil. L. You could not [sure] be so unmerciful,
To use a virtuous prince so cruelly;

You durst not so transgress the law of kings,
To murther him, although your enemy.

I know no cause of his did merit it,
But the stern hate of ancient enmity.

Phean. How dare you, sir, capitulate the cause?
Go bid your master come himself to know,
And then perchance we may resolve it him.

Sicil. L. Be sure he will, thou cruel homicide, And ask the cause in such a thund'ring language, Will make both thee, and all that hear it, tremble.

[Exit.

Phean. We'll answer him as loud, sir, fear it not. But to our first affairs: what is your censure? Is life or death the sentence we must give? 1 Lord. Mine is his life, my liege.

2 Lord. And so is mine.

3 Lord.. Mine is his life, but not his liberty. Phean. Why not his death as well? His fact is treason.

1 Lord. Suspected, but not proved; therefore 'tis fit

He should be kept close prisoner, till we hear
How the rude multitude do stand affected,

For he was deeply seated in their hearts.

Phean. We are resolved, let him be straight

brought forth;

We'll use him with what clemency we may :

I know the gods, whom kings should imitate,
Have plac'd us here to rule, not overthrow:

Enter SOPHOS.

Justice shall hand in hand with mercy go.

(To Soph.) We spake before a king, but now a

brother;

If you will yet confess your guilt, and cause
That moved you first unto this forgery,
We may perhaps forgive you; otherwise
There is no other favour but to die.
Soph. Ha, ha, ha! To die!

I do not think I shall be made so happy,
For death's the honest man's felicity:
There is no favour that I crave but death;
In living here I shall more torments find;
But being dead, there ends my misery.

Phean. If you will yet confess, we will have.

mercy.

Soph. Mercy! on whom? for what? You are deceiv'd,

It is a thing not in thy power to give.
Mercy's immortal, and to humane eyes
Is never seen till fleshly passion dies.

Phean. It seems then, sir, you do desire to die?
Soph. With full consent;

For life's a loathsome vale of misery.

Phean. In which thou still shalt live: thy life

we give,

But doom thee to perpetual banishment:
We limit you no time; therefore dispatch.
See that he instantly depart the court.

Soph. Dost think I'll stay? By all our gods, Thy crown and kingdom shall not hire me to't!