Enter Sanchio carried, Alphonso, and Servants.
Now is the time; delay is but despair,
If you be chang'd, let a kiss tell me so.
Leo. I am: but how, I rather feel than know.
Sanc. Come Sir; you are welcome now to Barcelona,
Take off my hood.
Phi. Who be these? stay, let's view 'em?
Alph. 'Twas a long journey: are you not weary Sir?
Sanc. Weary? I could have rid it in mine Armour.
Leo. Alas!
Leo. It is my Father.