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Gordon, Lesle, Butler.
Lesle.
Are all your horse in readinesse.

Gordon.
Yes, 'tis time,
That we were mounted, 'tis foure leagues at least
Unto the Generals Campe, and 'twill be late
Ere we arrive there, are you yet resolv'd
Upon the meanes, by which to put in practice
Our long intended purpose, our delay
Will make the Emperour apt to call in question
Our faiths integrity,

Lesle.
So great a businesse,
Is not with easie speed to be perform'd:
An eager haste oft-times o'rethrowes the fortunes
Of such affaires, if we once get him hither,
Within our City walls, be confident,
He's in his grave; but have you given command,
That all your Souldiers be in readinesse,
To waite the Generalls entry.

Butler.
They shall be
In their best furniture of Armes, all drawne
Into parada, he shall have all pompe,
And ornament of warre, to bid him welcome.

Lesle.
These triumphs
Shall be but funerall pomps before his death;
Gordon, you must, as Governour of Egers,
Present the keyes with all humility
To his dispose, 'twill make him be more carelesse,
And trust his very soule into our hands.

Gordon.
Doubt not me,
I shall performe with cunning skill, what e're
Belongs to me; but doe you intend the Generall
Alone shall fall, or his confederates
Shall perish with him,

Lesle.
O by all meanes, Indian princes
Doe carry slaves to wait on them into
The other world, and 'twere inglorious,
That our brave Generall should not have that privilege
Count Tertzki, Kintzki, Newman, Marshall Illawe,
Shall be his harbingers, and i'th' shades below,
Provide fit entertainment for his Ghost.

Butl.
They are of power, their deaths will shrowdly weaken,
The strength of the Conspiracie.

Lesle.
Very true, I'le craftily instill into his eares,
New causes of distrust, so to beget
In him more confidence of my faith, so to
Allure him hither sooner, we must worke
Surely, as does the Mole, who digs
Her habitation in the earth, and scornes!
All the assaults of tempests; when he's in,
We must be prompt in action, sure of hand,
And sound of heart, and strike him with that violence,
From the suppos'd Heavens,
His ambition climbs to, that the thin ayre
Does from its purer Regions
Dull earthly meteors; come let's away,
Nought crosses actions like a dull delay.

Exeunt.