Ele. No, indeed: You ever had with me th'opinion Of a most noble gentleman.
Fer. What then?
Ele. I know not what besides my feare; and that Beggs I may share your fortune, since you may not Take up such safety here as I have.
Fer. Come,
You are to blame: this heaven that now lookes on us
With rugged brow may quickly smile againe
And then I shall revisite my Eleonora.
So, farewell. [Exit.
Hen. Till then with greater care then were the Dragons
Supposd to watch the Golden Apples growing
In the Hesperides, shall Henrico wayte
On his best loved. Oh, my Eleonora,
I would to heaven there were no war but here
To shoote love darts! each smile from this fayre Eye
May take an Army prisoners: let me give
My life up here unto these lipps, and yet
I shall, by the sweetnes of a kisse, take back
The same againe. Oh thou in whom alone
Vertue hath perfect figure, hide not day
In such a Cloud: what feare hath enterd here?
My life is twisted in a Thread with thine;
Were't not defenced, there could nothing come
To make this cheeke looke pale, which at your Eye
Will not fall dead before you.—
Enter Buzzano.
Sirra, let all your care and duty bee
Employed to cheere this Lady: pray, be merry.
Buz. Oh, sir, yonders such doings.
Hen. Hell on your bawling! not a sillable to affright her, or I shall tune your instrument there.
Buz. Hele breake the head of my instrument! Why, sir, weomen are not affraid to heare of doings.