Page:Works of Sir John Suckling.djvu/296

276 Bad days have wings; the good on crutches go.

My lord,

Will't please you walk into that private chamber?

The executioner shall straight be here. [Lorenzo goes forth, murders him within, enters again Lor. You must be sure to keep it secret now.

Perchance the king, to try your honesty,

And blind his daughter's eyes, will send to ask

Of's welfare.

Keep. O my lord!

Lor. Nay, I know you understand.

Farewell.

One thing I had forgot: if any ask

What groan that was, say 'tis an usual thing

Against great men's deaths to hear a noise at midnight.

So now, royal lecher, set you safe!

'Tis your death must secure my life; I'll on!

Danger is but a bug-word; my barque shall through,

Did mountains of black horrors me surround.

When fortunes hang in doubt,

Bravely to dare is bravely to get out.

All leave the chamber! If any come, I'm busy.

Parmenio, be nigher—nigher yet.

What dar'st thou do to make thy master king,

Thyself a favourite?

Par. 'Tis something blunt, my lord. [Studies.] Why, I dare do—

That which I dare not speak.

Lor. By all my hopes, spoke like the man I want!

'Twould be lost time to use much circumstance

To thee: shall we this night despatch the king?

Par. This minute, were he my father!

He's not the first, nor shall he be the last.

Lor. Soul of my soul! My better angel sure

Foresaw my wants, and sent thee hither.

Parmenio,