Van-d. A halter.
Ger. 'Twas like your self, honest, and noble Hubert:
Can'st thou behold these mirrors all together,
Of thy long, false, and bloody usurpation?
Thy tyrrannous proscription, and fresh treason:
And not so see thy self, as to fall down
And sinking, force a grave, with thine own guilt,
As deep as hell, to cover thee and it?
Wol. No, I can stand: and praise the toyles that took me And laughing in them dye, they were brave snares.
Flo. 'Twere truer valour, if thou durst repent The wrongs th' hast done, and live.
Wol. Who, I repent? And say I am sorry? yes, 'tis the fool's language And not for Wolfort.
Van-d. Wolfort, thou art a Devil, And speakst his language, oh that I had my longing Under this row of trees now would I hang him.
Flo. No let him live, until he can repent, But banish'd from our State, that is thy doom.
Van-d. Then hang his worthy Captain here, this Hemskirk For profit of th' example.
Flo. No let him
Enjoy his shame too: with his conscious life,
To shew how much our innocence contemns
All practice from the guiltiest, to molest us.
Van-d. A noble Prince.