SUP. Ay, it shall be as easy for you to be duke As to be honest; and that's never, i' faith.
AMB. Well, cold he is by this time; and because We're both ambitious, be it our amity, And let the glory be shar'd equally.
AMB. This night our younger brother shall out of prison: I have a trick.
AMB. No, sir; you shall not know it, till it be done; For then you'd swear 'twere yours.
OFFICER. My lords, under your pardon, I am allotted To that desertless office, to present you With the yet bleeding head--
AMB. All's sure our own: brother, canst weep, think'st thou? 'Twould grace our flattery much; think of some dame: 'Twill teach thee to dissemble.
AMB. Our sorrows are so fluent, Our eyes o'erflow our tongues; words spoke in tears Are like the murmurs of the waters--the sound Is loudly heard, but cannot be distinguish'd.
SUP. He died most valiantly, then; we're glad to hear it.
OFFICER. We could not woo him once to pray.
AMB. He show'd himself a gentleman in that: Give him his due.
OFFICER. But, in the stead of prayer, He drew forth oaths.
SUP. Then did he pray, dear heart, Although you understood him not?
OFFICER. My lords, E'en at his last, with pardon be it spoke, He curs'd you both.
AMB. It was not in our powers, but the duke's pleasure. Finely dissembled a both sides, sweet fate; O happy opportunity! [_Aside._
LUS. Why do you shun me, brothers? You may come nearer now; The savour of the prison has forsook me. I thank such kind lords as yourselves, I'm free.
AMB. Releas'd! We were both e'en amaz'd with joy to see it.[78]
SUP. Faith, we spar'd no tongue unto my lord the duke.
AMB. I know your delivery, brother, Had not been half so sudden but for us.
LUS. Most deserving brothers! In my best studies I will think of it. [_Exit_ LUSURIOSO.
OFFICER. Why here, my lord; Just after his delivery, you both came With warrant from the duke to behead your brother.
OFFICER. The duke's son, my lord, had his release before you came.
OFFICER. His whom you left command for, your own brother's.
SUP. Did we make our tears women for thee?
SUP. You had a trick: you had a wile, forsooth.
AMB. A murrain meet 'em; there's none of these wiles that ever come to good: I see now, there's nothing sure in mortality, but mortality.