Eug. I stand forth
Daring all tortures, kissing Racks and Wheeles
And Flames, to whom I offer up this body.
You keepe us from our Crownes of Martyrdomes
By this delaying: dispatch us hence.
King. Not yet, Sir:
Away with them, stay him; and if our Gods
Can win this Christian Champion, now so stout,
To fight upon their sides, give him reward;
Our Gods will reach him praise.
Eug. Your Gods! wretched soules!
King. My worke is done; and, Henricke, as thou lov'st Thy Fathers soule, see every thing perform'd. This last iniunction tyes thee: so, farewell. Let those I hated in thy hate still dwell, I meane the Christians. (Dyes.)
Hen. Oh, what a deale of greatnesse
Is struck down at one blow.
Hub. Give me a battell:
'Tis brave being struck downe there.
Anth. Henrick, my Lord,
And now my Soveraigne, I am by office bound
To offer to your Royall hands this Crowne
Which on my knees I tender, all being ready
To set it on your head.
Omnes. Ascend your throne: Long live the King of Vandals and of Goths, The mighty Henrick.
Hen. What must now be done?
Anth. By me each Officer of State resignes The Patten that he holds his office by, To be dispos'd as best shall please your Grace.