Nor doe they handle theis things By rules of truth and reason, but their owne wills Their headstrong hott affections.

And must I stick here now, stick unreleevd, too? Must all theis glories vanish into darknes, And Barnavelt passe with 'em and glide away Like a spent exhalation?

How much I smile at now theis peoples mallice!

We shall heare shortly More of theis monsters.

Away with theis rogues. 1 Burg.

All thancks, kind frends, that a sad house can give ye Pray you receive; for I rest well assurd, Though theis sports are unseasonable here, They testifie your loves; and, if my Lord Ere live to be himself againe, I know He will remember it.

Now the blood and kindred Of Horne and Egmont (Memories great Martires), That must outlive all Alva's Tirranies And when their Stories told ev'n shake his ashes, Methincks through theis vaines now, now at this instant, I feele their Cuntries losse; I feele too Will.

and why in every Garrison, Unles he had an end that shot at evill, Should he so strongly plant theis fire-brands

Why this man Works theis or theis waies, with or against the State, We know and give allowaunces.