Anton. So doing he will purchase many friends.
Dam. Life, love, and liberty.
Vict. But tell me, pray, Sir; What are those errours which he must recant?
King. His hatred to those powers to which we bow,
On whom we all depend, he has kneel'd to them;
Let him his base Apostacy recant,
Recant his being a Christian, and recant
The love he beares to Christians.
Vict. If he deny To doe all this, or any poynt of this, Is there no mercy for him?
King. Couldst thou shed
A Sea of teares to drowne my resolution,
He dyes; could this fond man lay at my foote
The kingdomes of the earth, he dyes; he dyes
Were he my sonne, my father. Bid him recant,
Else all the Torments cruelty can invent
Shall fall on him.
Vict. No sparke of pitty?
King. None.
Vict. Well, then, but mark what paines Ile take to winne him, To winne him home; Ile set him in a way The Clouds shall clap to finde what went astray.
Anton. Doe this, and we are all his.