Scaena Prima.
Enter Duke, Burris, and Gentlemen.
Duke
HOw do's Lord Archas yet?
Bur.
But weake and't please ye,
Yet all the helpes that art can, are applied to him;
His heart's untouch't, and whole yet; and no doubt sir,
His minde being found, his body soone will follow.
Du.
O that base knave that wrong'd him, without leave too;
But I shall find an houre to give him thankes for't;
He's fast I hope?
Bur.
As fast as irons can keep him:
But the most fearefull wretch—
Du.
He has a conscience,
A cruell stinging one I warrant him,
A loaden one: But what newes of the Souldier?
I did not like their parting, 'twas too sullen.
Bur.
That they keep still, and I feare a worse clap:
They are drawn out of the Towne, and stand in counsels,
Hatching unquiet thoughts, and cruell purposes:
I went my selfe unto 'em, talk't with the Captaines,
Whom I found fraught with nothing but loud murmurs,
And desperate curses, sounding these words often
Like trumpets to their angers: we are ruin'd,
Our services turn'd to disgraces, mischiefes,
Our brave old Generall, like one had pilfer'd,
Tortur'd, and whipt: the Collonells eyes like torches,
Blaze everie where and fright faire peace.
Gent.
Yet worse sir:
The newes is currant now, they meane to leave ye,
Leave their allegiance: and under Olins charge
The bloudy Enemy march strait against ye.
Bur.
I have heard this too sir.
Du.
This must be prevented,
And suddenly, and warily.
Bur.
'Tis time sir,
But what to minister, or how?
Du.
Go in with me,
And there wee'l thinke upon't: such blows as these,
Equall defences aske, else they displease. Exeunt.