Timand. As you are noble,
Have pity, or love piety.—Oh!
Leost. Take breath.
Timag. Out with it boldly.
Timand. O, the best of ladies,
I fear, is gone for ever.
Leost. Who, Cleora?
Timag. Deliver, how? 'Sdeath, be a man, sir!—Speak.
Timand. Take it then in as many sighs as words,
My lady——
Timand. No sooner heard
Marullo was imprison'd, but she fell
Into a deadly swoon.
Timag. But she recover'd:
Say so, or he will sink too. Hold, sir; fie!
This is unmanly.