Mixt with my sorrow, soone will end my dayes.
Nic. My Liege, take comfort, I (your Subiect) vow
To goe my selfe to seeke Lorenzo forth,
And ne’r returne vntill I find him out,
Or bring some newes what is become of him.
3. Lord. The like will I, or ne’r come backe agen.
Iag. Old as I am, I’le not be last behind,
And if my Soueraigne please to let mee goe.
Attic. I thanke your loues, but I’le restrain your wils:
If I should part from you, my dayes were done,