SCENE IV.--_The_ DUKE'S _Bedchamber.--The_ DUKE _and_ DUCHESS _in bed.

_Enter_ LUSSURIOSO _and_ VENDICE, _disguised._

_Lus._ Where is that villain?

_Ven._ Softly, my lord, and you may take 'em twisted.

_Lus._ I care not how.

_Ven._ O! 'twill be glorious To kill 'em doubled, when they're heaped. Be soft, my lord.

_Lus._ Away! my spleen is not so lazy: thus and thus I'll shake their eyelids ope, and with my sword Shut 'em again for ever. Villain! strumpet!

_Duke._ You upper guard, defend us!

_Duch._ Treason! treason!

_Duke._ O, take me not in sleep! I have great sins; I must have days, Nay, months, dear son, with penitential heaves, To lift 'em out, and not to die unclear. O, thou wilt kill me both in Heaven and here.

_Lus._ I am amazed to death.

_Duke._ Nay, villain, traitor, Worse than the foulest epithet; now I'll gripe thee E'en with the nerves of wrath, and throw thy head Amongst the lawyers!--guard!

_Enter_ AMBITIOSO, SUPERVACUO, _and_ Lords.

_1st Lord._ How comes the quiet of your grace disturbed?

_Duke._ This boy, that should be myself after me, Would be myself before me; and in heat Of that ambition bloodily rushed in, Intending to depose me in my bed.

_2nd Lord._ Duty and natural loyalty forfend!

_Duch._ He called his father villain, and me strumpet, A word that I abhor to file[211] my lips with.

_Amb._ That was not so well-done, brother.

_Lus._ I am abused--I know there's no excuse can do me good. [_Aside._

_Ven._ 'Tis now good policy to be from sight; His vicious purpose to our sister's honour I crossed beyond our thought. [_Aside._

_Hip._ You little dreamt his father slept here.

_Ven._ O, 'twas far beyond me: But since it fell so--without frightful words, Would he had killed him, 'twould have eased our swords.

_Duke._ Be comforted, our duchess, he shall die. [_Exeunt_ VENDICE _and_ HIPPOLITO.

_Lus._ Where's this slave-pander now? out of mine eye, Guilty of this abuse.

_Enter_ SPURIO _with_ Servants.

_Spu._ Y' are villains, fablers![212] You have knaves' chins and harlots' tongues; you lie; And I will damn you with one meal a day.

_1st Ser_. O good my lord!

_Spu._ 'Sblood, you shall never sup.

_2nd Ser._ O, I beseech you, sir!

_Spu._ To let my sword catch cold so long, and miss him!

_1st Ser._ Troth, my lord, 'twas his intent to meet there.

_Spu._ 'Heart! he's yonder. Ha, what news here? is the day out o' the socket, That it is noon at midnight? the court up? How comes the guard so saucy with his elbows?

_Lus._ The bastard here? Nay, then the truth of my intent shall out; My lord and father, hear me.

_Duke._ Bear him hence.

_Lus._ I can with loyalty excuse.

_Duke._ Excuse? to prison with the villain! Death shall not long lag after him.

_Spu._ Good, i' faith: then 'tis not much amiss.

_Lus._ Brothers, my best release lies on your tongues; I pray, persuade for me.

_Amb._ It is our duties; make yourself sure of us.

_Sup._ We'll sweat in pleading.

_Lus._ And I may live to thank you. [_Exit with_ Lords.

_Amb._ No, thy death shall thank me better.

_Spu._ He's gone; I'll after him, And know his trespass; seem to bear a part In all his ills, but with a puritan heart. [_Exit with_ Servants.

_Amb._ Now, brother, let our hate and love be woven So subtlely together, that in speaking one word for his life, We may make three for his death: The craftiest pleader gets most gold for breath.

_Sup._ Set on, I'll not be far behind you, brother.

_Duke._ Is't possible a son should be disobedient as far as the sword? It is the highest: he can go no farther.

_Amb._ My gracious lord, take pity--

_Duke._ Pity, boys!

_Amb._ Nay, we'd be loth to move your grace too much; We know the trespass is unpardonable, Black, wicked, and unnatural.

_Sup._ In a son! O, monstrous!

_Amb._ Yet, my lord, A duke's soft hand strokes the rough head of law, And makes it lie smooth.

_Duke._ But my hand shall ne'er do't.

_Amb._ That as you please, my lord.

_Sup._ We must needs confess. Some fathers would have entered into hate So deadly-pointed, that before his eyes He would ha' seen the execution sound[213] Without corrupted favour.

_Amb._ But, my lord, Your grace may live the wonder of all times, In pardoning that offence, which never yet Had face to beg a pardon.

_Duke._ Hunny, how's this?

_Amb._ Forgive him, good my lord; he's your own son: And I must needs say, 'twas the viler done.

_Sup._ He's the next heir: yet this true reason gathers, None can possess that dispossess their fathers. Be merciful!--

_Duke._ Here's no step-mother's wit; I'll try them both upon their love and hate. [_Aside._

_Amb._ Be merciful--although--

_Duke._ You have prevailed. My wrath, like flaming wax, hath spent itself; I know 'twas but some peevish moon[214] in him; Go, let him be released.

_Sup._ 'Sfoot, how now, brother? [_Aside._

_Amb._ Your grace doth please to speak beside your spleen; I would it were so happy.

_Duke._ Why, go, release him.

_Sup._ O my good lord! I know the fault's too weighty And full of general loathing: too inhuman, Rather by all men's voices worthy death.

_Duke._ 'Tis true too; here, then, receive this signet. Doom shall pass; Direct it to the judges; he shall die Ere many days. Make haste.

_Amb._ All speed that may be. We could have wished his burden not so sore: We knew your grace did but delay before. [_Exeunt_ AMBITIOSO _and_ SUPERVACUO.

_Duke._ Here's envy with a poor thin cover o'er't; Like scarlet hid in lawn, easily spied through. This their ambition by the mother's side Is dangerous, and for safety must be purged. I will prevent their envies; sure it was But some mistaken fury in our son, Which these aspiring boys would climb upon: He shall be released suddenly.

_Enter_ Nobles.

_1st Noble._ Good morning to your grace.

_Duke._ Welcome, my lords.

_2nd Noble._ Our knees shall take Away the office of our feet for ever, Unless your grace bestow a father's eye Upon the clouded fortunes of your son, And in compassionate virtue grant him that, Which makes e'en mean men happy--liberty.

_Duke._ How seriously their loves and honours woo For that which I am about to pray them do! Arise, my lords; your knees sign his release. We freely pardon him.

_1st Noble._ We owe your grace much thanks, and he much duty. [_Exeunt_ Nobles.

_Duke._ It well becomes that judge to nod at crimes, That does commit greater himself, and lives. I may forgive a disobedient error, That expect pardon for adultery, And in my old days am a youth in lust. Many a beauty have I turned to poison In the denial, covetous of all. Age hot is like a monster to be seen; My hairs are white, and yet my sins are green.

ACT THE THIRD.