LADY COBHAM.
So soon, my Lord? what, will you ride all night?
COBHAM.
All night or day; it must be so, sweet wife.
Urge me not why or what my business is,
But get you in. Lord Powis, bear with me,
And madam, think your welcome ne’er the worse:
My house is at your use. Harpoole, away.
HARPOOLE.
Shall I attend your lordship to the court?
COBHAM.
Yes, sir; your gelding! mount you presently.
[Exeunt.]
LADY COBHAM.
I prithee, Harpoole, look unto thy Lord.
I do not like this sudden posting back.
POWIS.
Some earnest business is a foot belike;
What e’er it be, pray God be his good guide.
LADY POWIS.
Amen! that hath so highly us bested.
LADY COBHAM.
Come, madam, and my lord, we’ll hope the best;
You shall not into Wales till he return.
POWIS.
Though great occasion be we should depart,
Yet madam will we stay to be resolved
Of this unlooked for, doubtful accident.