Fly from the sulphurous clouds.—I am not dull;
For, bright as ruddy meteors through the sky,
The thought flames here, shall light me to my safety.
Fabian, away! Send hither to me straight,
Renchild and Thybalt. [Exit Fabian.] They are young and fearless.
Thy flight, ungrateful Isabel, compels me
To this rude course. I would have all with kindness;
Nor stain the snow-white flower of my true love
With spots of violence. But it must be so.