Fisc. First hear me, sir.
Tow. Thee, slave! thou livest but by the breath I gave thee.
Didst thou but now plead on thy knees for life,
And offer'dst to make known my innocence
In Harman's injuries?
Fisc. I offered to have cleared thy innocence,
Who basely murdered him!—But words are needless;
Sir, you see evidence before your eyes,
And I the witness, on my oath to heaven,
How clear your son, how criminal this man.
Col. Towerson could do nothing but what was noble.
Beam. We know his native worth.
Fisc. His worth! Behold it on the murderer's hand;
A robber first, he took degrees in mischief,
And grew to what he is: Know you that diamond,
And whose it was? See if he dares deny it.
Tow. Sir, it was your son's, that freely I acknowledge;
But how I came by it—
Har. No, it is too much, I'll hear no more.
Fisc. The devil of jealousy, and that of avarice, both, I believe, possest him; or your son was innocently talking with his wife, and he perhaps had found them; this I guess, but saw it not, because I came too late. I only viewed the sweet youth just expiring, and Towerson stooping down to take the ring; she kneeling by to help him: when he saw me, he would, you may be sure, have sent me after, because I was a witness of the fact. This on my soul is true.
Tow. False as that soul, each word, each syllable;
The ring he put upon my hand this night,
When in this wood unknown, and near this place,
Without my timely help he had been slain.