Fer. Ile doe my best. [Exit.
Mac. That such a noble Spanyard as Don Pedro Should be so cursed in's Children!
Enter Buzzano, Don Pedro, Fernando & Eleonora.
Buz. Hee's come, hee's come, my Lord! Don Pedro Gusman is still alive,—see, see!
Mac. Let us descend to meet a happinesse Crownes all our expectations.
Pedro. Whilst I meet
A Thunder strikes me dead. Oh, poore, wrongd Lady,
The poyson which the villaine poures on thy honour
Runs more into my veines then all the Venome
He spitts at me or my deare Boy, his brother.
My Lords, your pardon that I am transported
With shame & sorrow thus beyond my selfe,
Not paying to you my duty.
All. Your love, Don Pedro.
Mac. Conceale your selfe a while; your sons wele send for, And shew them deaths face presently.
Pedro. Ile play a part in't. [Exit.
Mac. Let them be fetcht, & speake not of a father.