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Lest it should be too late to save the innocent, And he be sent unto his long account With a most heavy charge upon his head.

Thou mak'st me tremble.—Ho! there, you without! Send here the messenger.(Calling off the stage.) His steed is ready: He shall forthwith depart.

Take thou this packet, and with full-bent speed Go to the city to the governor, And see thou give it into his own hand, With charges that he read it instantly. It is of precious moment to his life Who on the scaffold should this morning suffer. Quick mount thy horse: few minutes goaded speed Will take thee to the gates.

Few minutes goaded speed, five leagues to master!

Five leagues! thou'rt mad.

No, marry! know ye not The flooded river hath last night broke down The nearer bridge?