Valen. This Aconite's well made, a cup of poyson
Stuft with despatching simples, give him this,
And he shall quickly leave all earthly blisse.
There, take it, Fredericke, our last guift of grace;
Since thou must die, Ile have thee die apace.
Fred. O happie meanes, given by a trecherous hand,
To be my true guide to the heavenly land!
Death steales upon me like a silken sleepe;
Through every vaine doe leaden rivers flowe,[213]
The gentlest poyson that I ever knewe,
To work so coldly, yet to be so true.
Like to an infant patiently I goe,
Out of this vaine world, from all worldly woe;
Thankes to the meanes, tho they deserve no thankes,
My soule beginnes t'ore-flow these fleshly bankes.
My death I pardon unto her and you,
My sinnes God pardon; so vaine world adiew.
[He falls asleep.
Valen. Ha, ha, ha.
Mon. Hee's dead, why does your highnesse laugh?
Valen. Why, Lord Montano, that I love to see,
He that hath sav'd my life, to die for me.
But theres a riddle in this Princes death,
And Ile explaine it on this floore of earth.
Come, to his sisters execution goe,
We have varietie of joyes in woe.
I am sure, you have heard his Excellence did sweare
Both of their heads should grace a Kingly beare.
Upon a mourning hearse let him be layd;
He shalbe intombed with a wived maid.
[Exeunt.
Actus Quintus.
[SCENE 1.]
Enter Duke, Hatto, and Alfred.
Duke. Bring forth the prisoners: wher's my beauteous Dutches
That she may see the ruine of her foes?
She that upbraided her with slanderous wordes,
She that in scorne of due obedience
Hath matcht the honour of the Saxons blood
Unto a beggar; let them be brought foorth,
I will not rise from this tribunal seate
Till I have seene their bodies from their heads.