Gov. 'Tis happy you have learnt so much manners,
Since you have so little wit. Fare you well, sir!
Tyr. Let him be stay'd awhile!
4th Nob. Stay!
3d Nob. You must stay, sir.
Gov. He's not so honest, sure, to change his mind,
Revoke his doom; hell has more hope on him.
Tyr. We have not ended yet, the worst part's coming,
Thy banishment were gentle, were that all;
But, to afflict thy soul before thou goest,
Thou shalt behold the heav'n that thou must lose
In her that must be mine.
Then to be banish'd, then to be depriv'd,
Shows the full torment we provide for thee.
Gov. He's a right tyrant now, he will not bate me
Th' affliction of my soul; he'll have all parts
Enter the Lady clad in black, with attendants.
Suffer together; now I see my loss:
I never shall recover 't; my mind's beggar'd.
Tyr. Whence rose that cloud? Can such a thing be seen
In honour's glorious day, the sky so clear?
Why mourns the kingdom's mistress? Does she come
To meet advancement in a funeral garment?
Back! [To the attendants.] She forgot herself, 'twas too much joy,
That bred this error, and we heartily pardon't.
Go, bring her hither like an illustrious bride
With her best beams about her; let her jewels
Be worth ten cities: that beseems our mistress,
And not a widow's case—a suit to weep in.