SCENE V.--_A Room in the Palace.

_Enter_ AMBITIOSO _and_ SUPERVACUO.

_Amb._ Was not his execution rarely plotted? We are the duke's sons now.

_Sup._ Ay, you may thank my policy for that.

_Amb._ Your policy for what?

_Sup._ Why, was't not my invention, brother, To slip the judges? and in lesser compass Did I not draw the model of his death; Advising you to sudden officers And e'en extemporal execution?

_Amb._ Heart! 'twas a thing I thought on too.

_Sup._ You thought on't too! 'sfoot, slander not your thoughts With glorious untruth; I know 'twas from you.

_Amb._ Sir, I say, 'twas in my head.

_Sup._ Ay, like your brains then, Ne'er to come out as long as you lived.

_Amb._ You'd have the honour on't, forsooth, that your wit Led him to the scaffold.

_Sup._ Since it is my due, I'll publish't, but I'll ha't in spite of you.

_Amb._ Methinks, y'are much too bold; you should a little Remember us, brother, next to be honest duke.

_Sup._ Ay, it shall be as easy for you to be duke As to be honest; and that's never, i' faith. [_Aside._

_Amb._ Well, cold he is by this time; and because We're both ambitious, be it our amity, And let the glory be shared equally.

_Sup._ I am content to that.

_Amb._ This night our younger brother shall out of prison: I have a trick.

_Sup._ A trick! prythee, what is't?

_Amb._ We'll get him out by a wile.

_Sup._ Prythee, what wile?

_Amb._ No, sir; you shall not know it, till it be done; For then you'd swear 'twere yours.

_Enter an_ Officer.

_Sup._ How now, what's he?

_Amb._ One of the officers.

_Sup._ Desired news.

_Amb._ How now, my friend?

_Off._ My lords, under your pardon, I am allotted To that desertless office, to present you With the yet bleeding head--

_Sup._ Ha, ha! excellent.

_Amb._ All's sure our own: brother, canst weep, think'st thou? 'Twould grace our flattery much; think of some dame; 'Twill teach thee to dissemble.

_Sup._ I have thought;--now for yourself.

_Amb._ Our sorrows are so fluent, Our eyes o'erflow our tongues; words spoke in tears Are like the murmurs of the waters--the sound Is loudly heard, but cannot be distinguished.

_Sup._ How died he, pray?

_Off._ O, full of rage and spleen.

_Sup._ He died most valiantly, then; we're glad to hear it.

_Off._ We could not woo him once to pray.

_Amb._ He showed himself a gentlemen in that: Give him his due.

_Off._ But, in the stead of prayer, He drew forth oaths.

_Sup._ Then did he pray, dear heart, Although you understood him not?

_Off._ My lords, E'en at his last, with pardon be it spoke, He cursed you both.

_Sup._ He cursed us? 'las, good soul!

_Amb._ It was not in our powers, but the duke's pleasure. Finely dissembled a both sides, sweet fate; O happy opportunity! [_Aside._

_Enter_ LUSSURIOSO.

_Lus._ Now, my lords.

_Amb. and Sup._ O!--

_Lus._ Why do you shun me, brothers? You may come nearer now: The savour of the prison has forsook me. I thank such kind lords as yourselves, I'm free.

_Amb._ Alive!

_Sup._ In health!

_Amb._ Released! We were both e'en amazed with joy to see it.

_Lus._ I am much to thank to you.

_Sup._ Faith, we spared no tongue unto my lord the duke.

_Amb._ I know your delivery, brother, Had not been half so sudden but for us.

_Sup._ O, how we pleaded!

_Lus._ Most deserving brothers! In my best studies I will think of it. [_Exit._

_Amb._ O death and vengeance!

_Sup._ Hell and torments!

_Amb._ Slave, cam'st thou to delude us?

_Off._ Delude you, my lords?

_Sup._ Ay, villain, where's his head now?

_Off._ Why here, my lord; Just after his delivery, you both came With warrant from the duke to behead your brother.

_Amb._ Ay, our brother, the duke's son.

_Off._ The duke's son, my lord, had his release before you came.

_Amb._ Whose head's that, then?

_Off._ His whom you left command for, your own brother's.

_Amb._ Our brother's? O furies.

_Sup._ Plagues!

_Amb._ Confusions!

_Sup._ Darkness!

_Amb._ Devils!

_Sup._ Fell it out so accursedly?

_Amb._ So damnedly?

_Sup._ Villain, I'll brain thee with it.

_Off._ O my good lord!

_Sup._ The devil overtake thee!

_Amb._ O fatal!

_Sup._ O prodigious to our bloods!

_Amb._ Did we dissemble?

_Sup._ Did we make our tears women for thee?

_Amb._ Laugh and rejoice for thee?

_Sup._ Bring warrant for thy death?

_Amb._ Mock off thy head?

_Sup._ You had a trick: you had a wile, forsooth.

_Amb._ A murrain meet 'em; there's none of these wiles that ever come to good: I see now, there's nothing sure in mortality, but mortality. Well, no more words: shalt be revenged, i' faith. Come, throw off clouds; now, brother, think of vengeance, And deeper-settled hate; sirrah, sit fast, We'll pull down all, but thou shalt down at last. [_Exeunt._

ACT THE FOURTH.