Euph. Excellent virtue! thou hadst not this from thy father.
King. There's music in her voice, and in her face
More than a mortal beauty: O my heart!
I shall be lost in passion if I hear her.
[Aside.]
I'll hear no more: convey her from my presence:
Quickly. I say.
Euph. This is strange!
Vir. I told you what he would do; I knew
He would not hear of a pardon, and I against it;
He respects me.
Pol. No doubt he does, my lord:
I like this passage well.
King. But stay:
Stay, lady, let me hear you. Beshrew my heart,
My mind was running of another matter.
Vir. Where the devil hath his mind been all this while? Perhaps he heard none of us neither; we may e'en tell our tales again.
Pol. No, sure, he heard us; but 'tis very strange.
King. 'Tis such a tempting poison I draw in,
I cannot stay my draught. [Aside.] Rise up, lady.