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 A soldier's heart doth ne'er belie itself. Murray [to , pointing to the prisoner. Your Grace doth too much honour to yon knave! Cromwell [aside.]Base courtier! Downie [to the prisoner's bearers.]Damnation! let us go. Drogheda.One moment, pray! he weighs as much already As he were dead. Sedley. 'Tis very difficult To bear this cargo safely into port. Let us take counsel. What 's to do with it? Clifford.Let 's kill him here, and have done with th' affair. Drogheda.Ay, let us kill him. Sedley. 'Tis the quickest way. Richard [aside.]What devil's advocates! Who is the man? Cromwell [aside. The harpoon's fast; now let them have the line.

This spectacle alleviates my woes. They 're going to kill each other; that 's a comfort! Clifford [waving his sword over. Is it agreed? Jenkins [holding  arm.]How now! good gentlemen, Without a verdict, witnesses or judge, Without the forms of law, and without process? 'Tis murder pure and simple! Harsh words these; But are you, pray, by special ordinance, A court of justice or a martial court? Where, that the laws be kept inviolate, Are your commissions, sealed with the great seal?