Gronno. It shall be done; since you came into this place,
I might have stroken off seven heads in this space.
By’r Lady, here are good garments, these are mine, by the rood!
It is an evil wind that bloweth no man good.
Now, Pithias, kneel down, ask me blessing like a pretty boy,
And with a trice thy head from thy shoulders I will convey.
Here entereth Damon running, and stays the sword.
Damon. Stay, stay, stay! for the king’s advantage, stay!
O mighty king, mine appointed time is not yet fully pass’d;
Within the compass of mine hour, lo, here I come at last.