Kin. A Gyant Traytor
Card. Now Madam, may his Highnes liue in freedome,
And this man out of Prison
Queen. God mend all
Kin. Ther's somthing more would out of thee; what say'st?
Sur. After the Duke his Father, with the knife
He stretch'd him, and with one hand on his dagger,
Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes,
He did discharge a horrible Oath, whose tenor
Was, were he euill vs'd, he would outgoe
His Father, by as much as a performance
Do's an irresolute purpose
Kin. There's his period,
To sheath his knife in vs: he is attach'd,
Call him to present tryall: if he may
Finde mercy in the Law, 'tis his; if none,
Let him not seek't of vs: By day and night
Hee's Traytor to th' height.
Exeunt.
Scaena Tertia.
L.Ch. Is't possible the spels of France should iuggle
Men into such strange mysteries?
L.San. New customes,
Though they be neuer so ridiculous,
(Nay let 'em be vnmanly) yet are follow'd
L.Ch. As farre as I see, all the good our English
Haue got by the late Voyage, is but meerely
A fit or two o'th' face, (but they are shrewd ones)
For when they hold 'em, you would sweare directly
Their very noses had been Councellours
To Pepin or Clotharius, they keepe State so
L.San. They haue all new legs,
And lame ones; one would take it,
That neuer see 'em pace before, the Spauen
A Spring-halt rain'd among 'em