Marshal.
Now it resteth I appoint thy death;
Wherein thou shalt confess, I'll favour thee,
For that thou wert belov'd of Soliman:
Thou shalt forthwith be bound unto that post,
And strangled, as our Turkish order is.
Piston.
Such favour send all Turks, I pray God. [Aside.
Erastus.
I see this train was plotted, ere I came:
What boots complaining, where's no remedy?
Yet give me leave, before my life shall end,
To moan Perseda, and accuse my friend.
Soliman.
O unjust Soliman! O wicked time!
Where filthy lust must murder honest love. [Aside.
Marshal.