Let not your death of kingdome them depriue.
Alas what shall they do? who will haue care?
Who will preserue this royall race of yours?
Who pittie take? euen now me seemes I see
These little soules to seruile bondage falne,
And borne in triumph. Cl. Ah most miserable!
Euph. Their tender armes with cursed corde fast bound
At their weake backs. Cl. Ah Gods what pittie more!
Eph. Their seelie necks to ground with weaknesse bend.
Cl. Neuer on vs, good Gods, such mischiefe sende.