King. Those that are thankful study to requite
A courtesy; would you do so? Would you
Requite this favour?
Leu. I cannot, sir;
For all the service I can do your grace
Is but my duty; you are my sovereign,
And all my deeds to you are debts, not merits.
But to those powers above that can requite,
That from their wasteless treasures heap rewards
More out of grace than merits on us mortals,
To those I'll ever pray, that they would give you
More blessings than I have skill to ask.
King. Nay, but, Leucothoë, this lies
In thy power to requite: thy love will make requital;
Wilt thou love me?
Leu. I ever did, my lord:
I was instructed from my infancy
To love and honour you my sovereign.
King. But in a nearer bond of love?
Leu. There is no nearer nor no truer love,
Than that a loyal subject bears a prince.
King. Still thou wilt not conceive me: I must deal
Plain with you: wilt thou lie with me?
And I will seal his pardon presently;
Nay more, I'll heap upon you both all favours,
All honours that a prince can give.
Leu. O me unhappy!
In what a sad dilemma stands my choice,
Either to lose the man my soul most loves,
Or save him by a deed of such dishonour,
As he will ever loathe me for, and hate
To draw that breath that was so basely kept!
[Aside.]
Name anything but that to save his life;
I know you do but tempt my frailty, sir.
I know your royal thoughts could never stoop
To such a foul, dishonourable act.
King. Bethink thyself, there is no way but that.
I swear by heaven never to pardon him
But upon those conditions.