KING.
There’s something more would out of thee. What sayst?
SURVEYOR.
After “the Duke his father,” with “the knife,”
He stretched him, and with one hand on his dagger,
Another spread on ’s breast, mounting his eyes,
He did discharge a horrible oath, whose tenour
Was, were he evil used, he would outgo
His father by as much as a performance
Does an irresolute purpose.
KING.
There’s his period,
To sheathe his knife in us. He is attached.
Call him to present trial. If he may
Find mercy in the law, ’tis his; if none,
Let him not seek ’t of us. By day and night,
He’s traitor to th’ height!
[Exeunt.]
SCENE III. An ante-chamber in the palace.
Enter Lord Chamberlain and Lord Sandys.
CHAMBERLAIN.
Is’t possible the spells of France should juggle
Men into such strange mysteries?
SANDYS.
New customs,
Though they be never so ridiculous—
Nay, let ’em be unmanly—yet are followed.
CHAMBERLAIN.
As far as I see, all the good our English
Have got by the late voyage is but merely
A fit or two o’ th’ face; but they are shrewd ones,
For when they hold ’em, you would swear directly
Their very noses had been counsellors
To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so.
SANDYS.
They have all new legs, and lame ones. One would take it,
That never saw ’em pace before, the spavin
Or springhalt reigned among ’em.