That he would labour my delivery. 256
1. Mur. Why, so he doth, when he delivers you
From this earth's thraldom to the joys of heaven.
2. Mur. Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord.
Clar. Have you that holy feeling in your souls, 260
To counsel me to make my peace with God,
And are you yet to your own souls so blind,
That you will war with God by murd'ring me?
O, sirs, consider! they that set you on 264
To do this deed, will hate you for the deed.
2. Mur. What shall we do?
Clar. Relent and save your souls.
1. Mur. Relent? 'Tis cowardly and womanish.
Clar. Not to relent, is beastly, savage, devilish. 268
Which of you, if you were a prince's son,
Being pent from liberty, as I am now,
If two such murtherers as yourselves came to you,
Would not entreat for life? 272
My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks;
O! if thine eye be not a flatterer,
Come thou on my side, and entreat for me,
As you would beg, were you in my distress. 276
A begging prince what beggar pities not?
2. Mur. Look behind you, my lord.
1. Mur. Take that! and that! Stabs him.
If all this will not do,
I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within. 280
2. Mur. A bloody deed, and desperately dispatch'd!
How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands
Of this most grievous murther.
256 labour: busy himself to procure
258 thraldom: slavery
270 pent from: shut up from
280 malmsey-butt; cf. n.
282 Pilate; cf. n.
