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You shall understand, that when this caytiffe demanded of me a present and strong poyson, considering that it was not my part to give occasion of any others death, but rather to cure and save sicke persons by meane of medicines: and on the other side, fearing least if I should deny his request, I might minister a further cause of his mischiefe, either that he would buy poyson of some other, or else returne and worke his wicked intent, with a sword or some dangerous weapon, I gave him no poyson, but a doling drinke of Mandragora, which is of such force, that it will cause any man to sleepe as though he were dead.
Canst thou see mee Thus worryed amongst hangmen? deare Henrico, For heavens sake, for thine owne sake pitty mee. Hen. Cunning, cunning, cunning Traytour! In my eare he confesses all again and prayes me To speake to you. Mac. Will you openly confesse? Man. No, no, I cannot. Caytiffe, I spake not soe: I must not wound my Conscience to lay on it A guilt it knowes not.
If you can, sett then Your foote upon my head & drowne me, your worst: Let me have Justice here. Fer. Well, sir, you shall. Manuell, I can no lesse than lay upon you The hand of my authority. In my Caroach You shall with mee to Sherris, 3 leagues off, Where the Lords sitt to-morrow: there you must answer This most unbrotherly accusation. Man. And prove him a false caytiffe. Fer.
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