Oni. Two English mastiffs, which
Are yet but whelps, and not transported hither:
So that the time will be, I know not when.
Brow. Your sport is dangerous. If my lord forgive you,
I must resent th' affront as to myself,
And will expect a most severe account.
Oni. Thou less, though[284] angrier, thing than wasp, farewell.
[Exeunt.
Enter Queen and Ascanio.
Queen. I am inform'd, my lord, that you have business,
And 'tis of moment?
Asc. Great as that of Nature's
In her most mighty work, Creation.
For to preserve from dissolution equals
The gift of our first being. Not to hold
Your majesty in riddles, 'tis to beg
Your pardon for a soldier doom'd to die;
Inevitably doom'd, unless your mercy
Step between him and death.
Queen. My lord, we use
T' examine well the fact for which he is
To suffer, ere we pardon. There be crimes
Of that black quality which often makes
Mercy seem cruel.
Asc. That's the fear which frights
Me to this paleness: sure, his crime is great;
But fondly I, presuming on the service
My fortune lately did you, gave my vow
Ne'er to forsake your ear with earnest prayers,
Till you had granted.
Queen. Would you had not vowed;
For by the practice of my enemies
My fame is 'mong the people yet unsettled,
And my capacity for government
Held much too feeble. Should I then by this
Provoke them to disdain me, I might run
Apparent hazard even of ruin, now
War so distracts our kingdom. But, my lord,
Your merits are too ponderous in the scale,
And all respects weigh light—you have his pardon.