Enter Master.
Master. I told ye Sir,
What ye would do: for shame do not afflict him;
You have drawn his fit upon him fearfully:
Either depart, and presently; I'le force ye else.
Who waits within?
Enter two Keepers to fetch 'em off.
Ped. Alas good Sir.
This is the way never to hope recovery.
Mast. Stay but one minute more, I'le complain to the Governour,
Bring in the boy: do you see how he swells, and tears himself?
Is this your cure? Be gone; if the boy miscarry
Let me ne'r find you more, for I'le so hamper ye—
Gent. You were to blame: too rash.
Ped. Farewel for ever. [Exeunt.
Actus Quartus. Scena Prima.
Enter Alphonso, Gent. Juletta.