Lea. Then thou knowest well which was the fatall streame Wherein the young prince Alberdure was drownd?
Alb. I know not he was drowned, but oft have seene
The pittious manner of his lunacie;
In depth whereof he still would eccho forth
A Ladies name that I have often heard,
Beautious Hyanthe; but in such sad sort
As if his frenzie felt some secret touch
Of her unkindnesse and inconstancie,
And when his passions somewhat were appeaz'd,
Affording him (it seemed) some truer sence.
Of his estate, left in his fittes alone
Then would he wring his hands, extreamly weeping,
Exclaiming on the name of one Leander,
Calling him Traitor and unworthie friend
So to forsake him in his miserie.
Lea. Accursed I! ô thou hast mooved me more Than if a thousand showers of venom'd darts With severall paines at once had prickt my soule.
Hya. O thou ordained to beare swords in thy toung, Dead thou hast struck me and I live no more.
Alb. It seemes your honoures loved him tenderly.
Lea. O my good friend, knewest thou how deer I loved him.
Hya. Nay, knewest thou, honest friend, how deere I loved him.
Alb. I see, then, you would rejoyce at his health.
Lea. As at my life, were it revived from death.
Hya. As at my soule, were it preserv'd from hell.