[Exeunt.

SCAENA 2.

Enter P. of Orange, William, Bredero, Vandort,
Lords, Collonells, Captaines.

Bred.  Will your Excellence please to sitt?

[Table:  Bell.

Or.  I am prowd your Lordships
So willingly restore me to that place
From which the envy of the Advocate
Of late hath forcd me.  And that you may know,
How ere his mallice live to me, all hatred
Is dead in me to him, I am a Suitour
He may be sent for; for, as Barnavelt is
A member of this body politique,
I honour him, and will not scorne to yeild
A strict accompt of all my Actions to him;
And, though my Enemie, while he continues
A frend to his owne fame and loyall to[167]
The State, I love him and shall greive that he,
When he falls from it must deserve my pitty.

Vand.  This disposition in your Excellence
Do’s well becom you, but would wrong our iudgements
To call one as a partner to these counsailes
That is suspected, and ev’n then when all
His dark designes and deepest purposes
Are to be sifted.

Bred.  It were most unfit, And therefore we entreat your Highnes to[167] Presse it no further.

Or.  My good lords, your pardon;
You are your owne disposers.—­Gentlemen,
I shall a while entreat ye to forbeare
The troble that you put upon yourselves
In following me.  I can need no defence here,
Being left among these whose grave counsailes ever
Have lookd out for my safetie.  ’Tis your pleasure
And therefore I embrace it.

[Exeunt Collonells & Captaines.

Vand.  Now, when you please,
Your Excellence may deliver what you have
Observ’d concerning the Arminian faction,
What hopes and heads it had, for without question
It found more favorers, and great ones too,
Then yet we have discoverd.

Or.  My grave Lords,
That it hath byn my happines to take in,
And with so litle blood, so many Townes
That were falne of, is a large recompence
For all my travell; and I would advise
That (since[168] all now sing the sweet tunes of Concord,
No Sword unsheathd, the meanes to hurt cut off,
And all their stings pluckd out that would have used them
Against the publique peace) we should end here
And not with labour search for that which will
Afflict us when ’tis found.  Something I know
That I could wish I nere had understood,
Which yet if I should speake, as the respect
And duty that I owe my Cuntry binds me,
It wilbe thought ’tis rather privat spleene
Then pious zeale.  But that is not the hazard
Which I would shun:  I rather feare the men
We must offend in this, being great, rich, wise,
Sided with strong frends, trusted with the guard
Of places most important, will bring forth