Your share, Alphonso, in this happy day [To Alph.
Is not the least, nor will you be the last,
To applaud my worthy choice of such a son.
Alph. A sudden damp has seized my vital spirits;
I see but through a mist, and hear far off.—
Nay trouble not yourselves: a little time
Of needful rest, and solitary thought,
Will mend my health; till when, excuse my presence.
[Exit Alphonso, and looks back on Victoria.
Xim. [Aside.] He's much disturbed,—a sickness of the soul;