Val. And she that undertakes so great an act
As I intend, had need of faithfull hearts
This is the prison, and the jaylor comes
In happy time: where's trayterous Fredericke?
Enter Jaylor.
Jaylor. What is your highnesse pleasure with the Prince?
Val. Looke there, if you can reade.
Jai. O heavenly God, What doe I read? a warrant for his death?
Valen. Resigne your keyes, goe weepe a dirge or twaine But make no clamour with your lamentation.
Jay. I dare not prophesie what my soule feares, Yet Ile lament his tragedie in teares. [Exit.
Valen. Oft have I seene a Nobleman arraign'd
By mighty Lords, the pillars of the land,
Some of which number, his inclined friends,
Have wept, yet past the verdict of his death:
So fares it with the Prince. Were I his jaylor,
And so affected unto Fredericks life,
The fearfull'st tyrant nor the cruell'st plagues
That ever lighted on tormented soules,
Should make me yeeld my prisoner to their hands.
Mon. Madam, he knowes his duty, and performes it.
Valen. Setting aside all dutie, I would die
Ere like a woman weepe a tragedie;
Tis basenesse, cowardize. Dutie! O slave,
Had I a friend, I'de dye in my friends grave.
But it sorts well for us; Hindes will be Hindes,
And the Ambitious tread upon such mindes.
Waite, whilest I call you, in the jaylors house.