in_ EDWARD'S _Tent._

_Enter_ EDWARD _and_ PERCY.

_Edward_.--How fares it with these stubborn rebels now?
Do they still talk of death as of a bridal,
While we protract the ceremony?

_Percy_.--I learn, my liege, we've got two glorious allies--
Two most right honourable gentlemen--
Aiding the smooth-tongued orator:
_Disease_ and _Famine_ have espoused our cause,
And the said traitor Elliot is their oracle.

_Edward_.--Touching this man, we have advice from him,
In which he speaketh much concerns the wants
And murmurings of the citizens: he, too,
Adds, they hold out expecting help from Douglas,
And recommendeth that we should demand
The other son of Seton as a hostage,
In virtue of a truce for fourteen days:
This is his snare. The sons once in his power,
Their father yields, or both hang up before him.

_Percy_.--'Tis monstrous generous of our friendly Scot;
And what return expects he for his service?

_Edward_.--On giving up the father's head--his place.

_Percy_.--I fear the lady will have his head first.
Did you but see her eyes!
I'd bet my coronet 'gainst our friar's cowl,
Man wink not treason in his bedchamber
But she detect it. Then her ears, again;
'Sdeath! she can hear the very sound of light
As it does steal, i' the morning, through her curtains.
Should our _friend_ wear his head another week,
His neck, I'll swear, is not as other men's are.

_Edward_.--How fares it with the son, our silent prisoner?

_Percy_.--Poor soul, he leans his head against the wall,
And stands with his arms thus--across his breast--
Pale as a gravestone, gnashing at his teeth,
And looking on his guards just as his mother would!

_Edward_.--'Tis now the hour that Elliot has proposed
To stir the townsmen up to mutiny.
Take our conditions, and _whatever_ you please;
Get but the son as hostage!--get but that!
And both shall die a thief's death if he yield not;
He is a father, Percy--he's a father!
The town is ours, and at an easy purchase. _[Exit_

_Percy_.--And she's a mother, Edward! she's a mother!
Ay! and a mother; I will pledge my earldom,
And be but plain Hal Percy all my life,
If she despise not gallows, death, and children,
And earn for thee a crown of shame, my master!
In sooth, I am ashamed to draw my sword,
Lest I should see my face in its bright blade;
For sure my mother would not know her son,
As he goes blushing on his hangman's errand.

SCENE VI.--_A Street_--_the Market-place.

Enter_ ELL