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Ethw. Speak warriour: then he holds the fortress still?

Of. He does, my Lord, but much he lives in fear
He shall not hold it long, unless your highness
Will give your warrant to release the prisoners;
Those ill designing Mercians whom your wisdom
Under his guard has placed.
He bade me say the step is dangerous;
But, if it is not done, those idle mouths
Consuming much, will starve him and his men
Into compliance with the foe's demand.
What is your sovereign will? for on the instant
I must return.

Ethw. Tell him this is no time for foolish hazard:
Let them be put to death.

Of. (shrinking back.) Must I return with this? all put to death?

Ethw. Yes, I have said: didst thou not hear my words?

Of. I heard, in truth, but mine ears strangely rung.
Good saints! there are, my Lord, within our walls.
Close pris'ners kept, of war-bred men alone,
Of whom, I trow, there scarcely is a man
Who has not some fair stripling by his side
Sharing the father's bonds, threescore and ten;
And must they all——

Ethw. I understand thee, fool.
Let them all die! have I not said it? Go;
Linger not here, but bear thy message quickly.
(Exit Officer sorrowfully.