Phi. Now by my life this is
Unkindly done, to vex me with thy sight,
Th'art fain again to thy dissembling trade:
How should'st thou think to cozen me again?
Remains there yet a plague untri'd for me?
Even so thou wept'st and spok'st when first
I took thee up; curse on the time. If thy
Commanding tears can work on any other,
Use thy art, I'le not betray it. Which way
Wilt thou take, that I may shun thee;
For thine eyes are poyson to mine; and I
Am loth to grow in rage. This way, or that way?
Bell. Any will serve. But I will chuse to have
That path in chase that leads unto my grave.
[Exeunt Phil. and Bell. severally.
Enter Dion and the Woodmen.
Di. This is the strangest sudden change! You Woodman.
1 Wood. My Lord Dion.
Di. Saw you a Lady come this way on a Sable-horse stubbed with stars of white?
2 Wood. Was she not young and tall?
Di. Yes; Rode she to the wood, or to the plain?
2 Wood. Faith my Lord we saw none.