King. Well, Mr. Mayor, what have you to offer in defence?
Cres. These papers, my Liege: in which this same captain is clearly proved guilty, on the evidence of his own soldiers, of carrying off and violating a maiden in a desolate place, and refusing her the satisfaction of marriage though peaceably entreated to it by her father with the endowment of all his substance.
Lope. This same mayor, my Liege, is the girl’s father.
Cres. What has that to do with it? If another man had come to me under like circumstances, should I not have done him like justice? To be sure. And therefore, why not do for my own daughter what I should do for another’s? Besides, I have just done justice against my own son for striking his captain; why should I be suspected of straining it in my daughter’s favour? But here is the process; let his Majesty see for himself if the case be made out. The witnesses are at hand too; and if they or any one can prove I have suborned any evidence, or any way acted with partiality to myself, or malice to the captain, let them come forward, and let my life pay for it instead of his.
King (after reading the papers). I see not but the charge is substantiated: and ’tis indeed a heavy one. Is there any one here to deny these depositions? (Silence.) But, be the crime proved, you have no authority to judge or punish it. You must let the prisoner go.
Cres. You must send for him then, please your Majesty. In little towns like this, where public officers are few, the deliberative is forced sometimes to be the executive also.
King. What do you mean?
Cres. Your Majesty will see. (The prison gates open, and the Captain is seen within, garrotted in a chair.)