Eug. 'Tis not for thanks or meed,
But for the service that I owe to virtue,
I would do this.
Leu. Surely this man
Is nobly bred, howe'er his habit give him.
But, sir, all physic comes to me too late;
There is no hope my Philocles should live.
Eug. Unless the king were pleas'd to grant his pardon.
'Twere good that he were mov'd.
Leu. Ah! who should do it?
I fear me, 'tis in vain: Count Virro
And my father both will cross it; but I would venture,
If I could but get thither.
Eug. 'Tis in my power
To give you liberty: your father left
Me to be your keeper; but in an act
So meritorious as this I will not hinder you;
Nay, I will wait upon you to the Court.
Leu. A thousand thanks to you; well, I will go.
Grant, O ye powers above, if [a] virgin's tears—
If a true lover's prayers—had ever power
To move compassion, grant it now to me!
Arm with so strong a vigour my weak words,
They may pierce deep into his kingly breast,
And force out mercy in spite of all opposers!
Eug. Come, let's away.
[Exeunt.
ACT IV.
Enter Francisco, reading a letter.