Alb. Go then before, and we will follow straight.
Lea. Comfort, my Lord, my vision proov'd most true:
Even in the place, under the Lawrell shade,
I found them sitting just as I beheld them
In my late vision; see, sir, where they come.
Alp. Am I enchanted or see I my sonne?
I, I, the boy hath plaide the traytor with me.
O, you young villaine, trust you with my love!
How smoothe the cunning treacher lookt on it;
Hard. But, sirra, can this be?
Lea. You knew him to be mad, these thought him drownd. My Lord, take you no more delight to see Your sonne recovered of his life and wits?
Alp. See, see, how boldly the young pollytician
Can urge his practice. Sirra, you shall know
Ile not be over-reacht with your young braine.
All have agreed, I see, to cozen me,
But all shall faile. Come, Ladie, I will have
You spight of all, and, sonne, learne you hereafter
To use more reverend meanes to obtaine
Of me what you desire. I have no joy
To see thee raizd from a deluding death.
Hya. My Lord, 'tis tyrannie t'enforce my love.
Lea. I hope your Highnesse will maintaine your word.
Alp. Doost thou speake, Traitor? straight Ile have you safe For daring to delude me in my love.
Albe. O friend, thou hast betraide my love in vaine:
Now am I worse then eyther mad or drown'd,
Now have I onely wits to know my griefes
And life to feel them.