HERMIONE.
Good sir, methought I heard you speak of one right now,
Daughter unto a prince: that made me bold to trouble you.
BOMELIO.
I spake of such an one indeed.
HERMIONE.
Why, do you know her name?
BOMELIO.
Fidelia. Why do you ask? What, do you know the same?
HERMIONE.
Yea, father, that I do: I know, and knew her well.
But did you wish those plagues to light on her, I pray you tell?
BOMELIO.
On her! the gods forbid; but on that wretched wight
Her brother, that from hence right now perforce convey'd her quite.
HERMIONE.
Alas! what do I hear? Good father, tell me true,
Hath she been here?
BOMELIO.
She was.
HERMIONE.
She was! Where is she now?
BOMELIO.
Gone back again.