Phil. To hunt him for revenge.
The darkest angle of this universe
Shall not contayne him: through the bounded world
Ile prosecute his flight with ceaslesse steps,
And when long travell makes them dull or faynt,
Bayting[138] them fresh with Bellamiraes wrongs,
Like Eagles they shall cut the flaxen ayre
And in an instant bring me where he is.
Lew. Where goes our sonne?
Phil. To hell, so that in that kingdome Fate would assertayne me to meet with Burbon. Where ever I confront him, this shall kill him.
Nav. Thou shalt have ayd to compasse thy revenge.
Phil. No ayd but this strong arme. Farewell, farewell! Since Bellamira hath forsooke her friend, I seeke destruction (Burbon) and mine ende. [Exit.
Lew. Stay him: this fury will betray thy life.
Nav. Poore king made wretched by thy daughters losse!
Lew. Poore king made wretched by thy desperat sonne!
Enter Messenger.
Mess. Spend not your woes too fast, but save some teares To dew the obsequies of your dead sonne.