Alex. Oh, I beseech you, sir; goe to; what meane you?
Y. M. No harme to thee; this was my Fathers once,
My honord Father; this did never view
The glaring Sunn but in a noble cause,
And then returnd home blushing with red spoyles,
Which sung his fame and conquest. Goe, intreat
My Mother be as pleasant as she was
That night my Father got me. I am going, say,
Most cheerfully to finish her comaund.
Alex. Heaven prosper you. Ha!
Enter Thurston.
Thu. Freind, I was looking for you.
Y. M. And you have found me, Villaine.
Thu. What meane you?
Y. M. If thou darst follow me I will conduct thee Unto the seate of death.
Thu. Dare! Ile goe with thee, hand in hand; goe on.
[Exeunt ambo.