Ten. You are for France then too?
Man. I wayte on my father.
Pedr. Henrico.
Ferd. Eleonora.
Ten. But how chance, Manuell, your younger brother Is at the Goale before you? What, no Lady To please your eye?
Man. I am not
Yet weary of my freedome. May Henrico
Meete Joy in his Election: yet I know not
One I would sooner chuse to call a sister
Than Eleonora.
Pedr. At my returne from France all things shall bee
Consummate; in meane time let your owne hearts,
Knitt with the strongest tye of love, be merry
In mutuall embraces, and let your prayers
Fill our departing sayles. Our stay will not
Bee long, and the necessity of my affaires
Unwillingly doth take me from you.
Hen. Though I could wish your stay, my duty bidds me Expect the enjoying of my happines Till your returne from France.—Your blessing.
Eleo. How ever heaven dispose of Eleonora,
Pray write me in your thoughts your humblest daughter,
That shall make it a part of her devotions
To pray for you.
Fer. Well, sir, since your designe Pulls you away, may your good Angell guard you.