Tells me that, having landed you, he lies
Under strict orders to return again
Within an hour.
Prince. ’Tis true.
Luis. Now, good my lord,
The ships, when they go back, must carry with them
Some friends who, long time look’d for, just are come,
And whom I fain—
Prince. Nay, utter not a wish
I know I must unwillingly deny.