CAMBER.
What ails
Me, sister? Were the heart in me no higher
Than his who heeds no more than harpers’ tales
Such griefs as set a sister’s heart on fire—
GUENDOLEN.
Then were my brother now at rest in Wales,
And royal.
CAMBER.
Am I less than royal here?
GUENDOLEN.
Even here as there alike, sir.
CAMBER.
Dost thou fear
Nothing?