ACT. V.
Enter Duke, Burris, and Gentlemen.
Duk.
HOW do's Lord Archas yet?
Bur.
But weak an't please you,
Yet all the helps that Art can, are applied to him;
His Heart's untouch'd, and whole yet; and no doubt Sir,
His Mind being sound, his Body soon will follow.
Duk.
O that base Knave that wrong'd him, without leave too;
But I shall find an Hour to give him thanks for't;
He's fast I hope?
Bur.
As fast as Irons can keep him:
But the most fearful wretch—
Du.
He has a Conscience,
A cruel stinging one I warrant him,
A loaden one: But what news of the Soldiers?
I did not like their parting, 'twas too sullen.
Bur.
That they keep still, and I fear a worse clap:
They are drawn out of the Town, and stand in Counsels,
Hatching unquiet Thoughts, and cruel Purposes:
I went my self unto 'em, talk'd with the Captains,
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, Mischiefs,
Our brave old General, like one had pilfer'd,
Tortur'd and whipt: the Colonel's Eyes like Torches,
Blaze every where and fright fair Peace.
Gent.
Yet worse Sir:
The News is currant now, they mean to leave you,
Leave their Allegiance: and under Olins charge
The bloody Enemy march strait against you.