But he my Lord that wrought this miracle,
Is not of power to free himselfe from death,
Through the performance of this suddaine change.
_Duke_. No, were he the chiefest hope of Christendome,
He should not live for this presumption:
Use no excuse, _Alenso_, for thy life;
My doome of death shall be irrevocable.
_Alen_. Ill fare his soule that would extenuate
The rigor of your life-confounding doome!
I am prepar'd with all my hart to die,
For thats th' end of humaine miserie.
_Duke_. Then thus: you shall be hang'd immediately,
For your illusion of the Magistrates
With borrowed shapes of false antiquitie.
_Alen_. Thrice-happy sentence, which I do imbrace
With a more fervent and unfained zeale
Then an ambicious rule-desiring man
Would do a Iem-bedecked Diadem,
Which brings more watchfull cares and discontent
Then pompe or honor can remunerate.
When I am dead, let it be said of me,
_Alenso_ died to set his father free.
_Fal_. That were a freedome worse than servitude
To cruell Turke or damned Infidell.
Most righteous Judge, I do appeale for Iustice,
Justice on him that hath deserved death,
Not on _Alenso_; he is innocent.
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