WHITMORE.
Thou shalt have cause to fear before I leave thee.
What, are ye daunted now? Now will ye stoop?
1 GENTLEMAN.
My gracious lord, entreat him, speak him fair.
SUFFOLK.
Suffolk’s imperial tongue is stern and rough,
Used to command, untaught to plead for favour.
Far be it we should honour such as these
With humble suit. No, rather let my head
Stoop to the block than these knees bow to any
Save to the God of heaven and to my King;
And sooner dance upon a bloody pole
Than stand uncovered to the vulgar groom.
True nobility is exempt from fear;
More can I bear than you dare execute.
LIEUTENANT.
Hale him away, and let him talk no more.
SUFFOLK.
Come, soldiers, show what cruelty ye can,
That this my death may never be forgot!
Great men oft die by vile Bezonians.
A Roman sworder and banditto slave
Murdered sweet Tully; Brutus’ bastard hand
Stabbed Julius Caesar; savage islanders
Pompey the Great; and Suffolk dies by pirates.
[Exeunt Whitmore and others with Suffolk.]
LIEUTENANT.
And as for these whose ransom we have set,
It is our pleasure one of them depart.
Therefore come you with us, and let him go.
[Exeunt all but the 1 Gentleman.]
Enter Whitmore with Suffolk’s body and head.
WHITMORE.
There let his head and lifeless body lie,
Until the Queen his mistress bury it.