Mac.  The combate in this case cannot be granted,
And here’s the reason:  when a man accuses
A frend, much more a brother, for a fact
So foule as murther (murther of a father),
The Law leapes straight way to the Challenger
To take his part.  Say he that doth accuse
Should be decrepitt, lame and weake, or sickly,
The other strong and lusty; thinke you a kingdome
Will hazard so a subject, when the quarrell
Is for a kingdomes right?  If y’are so valiant
You then must call the law into the field
But not the man.

Man.  I have done; let law proceed.

Mac.  This cannot serve your turne, say he does belye you;
He stakes against your body his owne soule. 
Say there is no such murther, yet the Law
Fastens on you; for any man accusd
For killing of his father may be rackd
To draw confession from him.  Will you confesse?

Man.  I cannot, must not, will not.

Mac.  Jaylour, take & prepare him for the racke:  Wele see it done here.

Hen.  You are righteous Judges.

Man.  Oh villaine, villaine, villaine!

[Exit with the Jaylour.

Med.  Where’s the wrongd Lady?

Alq.  Stand you still at the Barre.  You are now another man, sir; your scale turnes.

Fernando fetches in Eleonora.

Mac.  Looke on the prisoner:  doe you know him, Lady?

Ele.  Would I had nere had cause to say I know him.

Mac.  Of what doe you accuse him?

Ele.  As the murtherer
Both of my name and honour.  In the hurry,
When the Citty (they said) was ready to be taken,
I being betrothed to this young gentleman,
My father brought me to his father’s house,
Telling me their dwelt safety.—­There dwelt villany,
Treason, lust, basenes! for this godlesse man
(The storme being ore) came in & forcd from me
The Jewell of my virgin honour.

Hen.  False!

Fer.  I would not have thee thinke (thou graceles wretch)
She, being contracted to thee, loving thee,
Loving thee far more dearly then her selfe,
Would wound her vertue soe, so blott her fame
And bring a scandall on my house & me,
Were not the fact most true.

Hen.  Most false by all that ever man can sweare by. 
We falling out, I told her once I nere
Would marry her; & soe she workes this mischiefe.

Gyr.  You here stand chargd for ravishing her, & you Must marry her or she may have your life.

Mac.  Lady, what say you? which had you rather have, His life or him?

Ele.  I am not cruell; pay me my first Bond Of marriage, which you seald to, & I free you And shall with Joy run flying to your armes.

All.  Law you?[53]