More are behind yet.

_Wol_. O repeat them not,
'Tis Hell to hear them nam'd.

_Hub_. You should have thought,
That Hell would be your punishment when you did them,
A Prince in nothing but your princely lusts,
And boundless rapines.

_Wol_. No more I beseech you.

_Hub_. Who was the Lord of house or land, that stood
Within the prospect of your covetous eye?

_Wol_. You are in this to me a greater Tyrant,
Than e're I was to any.

_Hub_. I end thus
The general grief: now to my private wrong;
The loss of _Gerrards_ Daughter _Jaqueline_:
The hop'd for partner of my lawful Bed,
Your cruelty hath frighted from mine arms;
And her I now was wandring to recover.
Think you that I had reason now to leave you,
When you are grown so justly odious,
That ev'n my stay here with your grace and favour,
Makes my life irksome? here, surely take it,
And do me but this fruit of all your friendship,
That I may dye by you, and not your Hang-man.