Page:Miscellaneous Plays 1.pdf/82

62

What, say'd thou so? (Turning to the crowd.) Ye who surround me too, Each with the form and countenance of a man, Say ye 'tis not permitted? To you I do stretch forth these fetter'd hands, And call you men: O, let me not miscall you!

Fie, on't! unbind his hands, unbind his hands, And we will stand his sureties.

Do but unbind his hands a little space, And shoot me thro' the head if he escape. My arm secured him; be my recompense This one request.

Go to; thou art a brave man but a weak one. (To the guard) Move on; we halt no longer.

By all good saints we stand by the brave Bertram, And he shall be unshackled. (Menacingly.)

Soldiers, present your muskets to these madmen, And let them speak; the prisoner halts no longer;