Cla. Not in one grave together, we beseech you, we shall ne’er agree.
Rog. He scorns my company till the day of judgment; I’ll not hang with him. 111
Duke. You hang together, that shall make you friends;
An everlasting hatred death soon ends.
To prison with them till the death;
Kings’ words, like fate, must never change their breath.
Rog. You malice-monger, I’ll be hang’d afore thee,
And ’t be but to vex thee.
Cla. I’ll do you as good a turn, or the hangman and [I] shall fall out.
[Exeunt ambo, guarded.
Duke. Now to our kinsman, shame to royal blood;
Bring him before us. 121
Enter Mendoza in his nightgown and cap, guarded, with the Captain.
Theft in a prince is sacrilege to honour;
’Tis virtue’s scandal, death of royalty.
I blush to see my shame. Nephew, sit down.
Justice, that smiles on those, on him must frown!
Speak freely, captain; where found you him wounded?