Isab. 'Tis none to kill a villain, and a Dutchman.
Fisc. [Kneeling to Towerson.] Noble Englishman, give me my life, unworthy of your taking! By all that is good and holy here I swear, before the governor to plead your cause; and to declare his son's detested crime, so to secure your lives.
Tow. Rise, take thy life, though I can scarce believe thee;
If for a coward it be possible, become an honest man.
Enter Harman Senior, Van Herring, Beamont, Collins, Julia, the Governors Guard.
Fisc. [To Har.]
Oh, sir, you come in time to rescue me;
The greatest villain, who this day draws breath,
Stands here before your eyes: behold your son,
That worthy, sweet, unfortunate young man,
Lies there, the last cold breath yet hovering
Betwixt his trembling lips.
Tow. Oh, monster of ingratitude!
Har. Oh, my unfortunate old age, whose prop
And only staff is gone, dead ere I die!
These should have been his tears, and I have been
That body to be mourned.
Beam. I am so much amazed, I scarce believe my senses.
Fisc. And will you let him live, who did this act?
Shall murder, and of your own son,
And such a son, go free; He lives too long,
By this one minute which he stays behind him.
Isab. Oh, sir, remember, in that place you hold,
You are a common father to us all;
We beg but justice of you; hearken first
To my lamented story.