Rol. Why bear you him not hence?
Aub. My Lord, (stay Souldiers)
I do beseech your Highness, do not lose
Such men for such slight causes. This is one
Has still been faithful to you, a try'd soul
In all your fathers Battles; I have seen him
Bestride a friend against a score of Foes,
And look, he looks as he would kill his hundred
For you, Sir, were you in some danger.
All. Till he kill'd his Brother, his Chancellour, then his
Master, to which he can add nought to equal Nero,
But killing of his Mother.
Aub. Peace, brave Fool,
Thou valiant Ass: here is his Brother too, Sir,
A Captain of your Guard, hath serv'd you long,
With the most noble witness of his truth
Mark'd in his face, and every part about him,
That turns not from an enemy. But view him,
Oh do not grieve him, Sir, if you do mean
That he shall hold his place: it is not safe
To tempt such spirits, and let them wear their Swords,
You'll make your Guards your terrours by these Acts,
And throw more hearts off from you than you hold;
And I must tell you, Sir, (with my old freedom,
And my old faith to boot) you have not liv'd so
But that your state will need such men, such hands
Of which here's one, shall in an hour of tryal,
Do you more certain service with a stroke,
Than the whole bundle of your flatterers
With all the unsavory unction of their tongues.
Rol. Peace, talker.
Aub. One that loves you yet, my Lord,
And would not see you pull on your own ruines.
Mercy becomes a Prince, and guards him best,
Awe and affrights are never tyes of Love;
And when men begin to fear the Prince, they hate him.
Rol. Am I the Prince, or you?
Aub. My Lord, I hope I have not utter'd ought should
urge that question.
Rol. Then practise your obedience, see him dead.
Aub. My Lord?