Unkind Perseda, couldst thou use her so?
And yet we us'd Perseda little better.
Soliman.
Nay, gentle Brusor, stay thy tears a while,
Lest with thy woes thou spoil my comedy,
And all too soon be turn'd to tragedies.
Go, Brusor, bear her to thy private tent,
Where we at leisure will lament her death,
And with our[429] tears bewail her obsequies;
For yet Perseda lives for Soliman.—
Drum, sound a parley.—Were it not for her
I would sack the town, ere I would sound a parley.
[The drum sounds a parley. Perseda comes upon the walls in man's apparel. Basilisco and Piston [also] upon the walls.
Perseda.
At whose entreaty is this parley sounded?
Soliman.
At our entreaty; therefore yield the town.
Perseda.
Why, what art thou, that boldly bidd'st me yield?