[Exeunt King and Nobles.
Jer. O my sweet boy, heaven shield thee still from care!
O, be as fortunate as thou art fair!
Hor. And heaven bless you, my father, in this fight,
That I may see your grey head crown’d in white!
[Exeunt.
Enter Andrea and Bell’-Imperia.
Bel. You came but now, [and] must you part again?
You told me that your spirit
Should put on peace; but, see, war follows war.