Can give you the resolve, doe not despaire.
Musick: and Tamira enters with Pero, her maid, bearing a letter.
Tamyra. Away, deliver it. Exit Pero.
O may my lines, [20]
Fill'd with the poyson of a womans hate,
When he shall open them, shrink up his curst eyes
With torturous darknesse, such as stands in hell,
Stuck full of inward horrors, never lighted;
With which are all things to be fear'd, affrighted.[25]
Buss. How is it with my honour'd mistresse?