And what return expects he for his service?

_Edward_.--On giving up the father's head--his place.

_Percy_.--I fear the lady will have his head first.
Did you but see her eyes!
I'd bet my coronet 'gainst our friar's cowl,
Man wink not treason in his bedchamber
But she detect it. Then her ears, again;
'Sdeath! she can hear the very sound of light
As it does steal, i' the morning, through her curtains.
Should our _friend_ wear his head another week,
His neck, I'll swear, is not as other men's are.

_Edward_.--How fares it with the son, our silent prisoner?

_Percy_.--Poor soul, he leans his head against the wall,
And stands with his arms thus--across his breast--
Pale as a gravestone, gnashing at his teeth,
And looking on his guards just as his mother would!

_Edward_.--'Tis now the hour that Elliot has proposed
To stir the townsmen up to mutiny.
Take our conditions, and _whatever_ you please;
Get but the son as hostage!--get but that!
And both shall die a thief's death if he yield not;
He is a father, Percy--he's a father!
The town is ours, and at an easy purchase. _[Exit_

_Percy_.--And she's a mother, Edward! she's a mother!