Ard. O, seems no soul need trouble now
In this vast world!
[Re-enter Charilus and sons]
Bion. You are not Vairdelan?
Vig. You're Bertrand, Oswald's son?
Ber. 'Tis true.
Vig. That truth
Should cut your throat, and I could lend my sword
For such a matter.
Bion. Come! What knightly plea
Coats this deceit with honor?
Ber. None, my lord.
If I've made trespass deeper than your love
Will bear me out, my hope is in your pardon.
Bion. A lie made you our guest, and guest you are
Until we meet on Suli plain.
Char. My son!