Eph. Why, what's the matter?
Rin. O sir, the prince——
Eph. He is not dead, Rinatus, is he?
Rin. Sir, if he be, 'tis you have murder'd him:
Was it for this you were so jealous t'other day?
May my Inophilus never pretend to virtue,
I'll teach him a more thriving art.
Come to the window a little, sir, and hear
How the good people curse you. As cold weather
As it is, some are so hard at it, they sweat again.
Eph. Prythee, unriddle; hast thou drunk hemlock,
Since I saw thee last?
Rin. I would not be in my wits for anything
I' th' world; my grief would kill me if I were.
He's mad that will speak sense or reason,
Now you have thrown away our prince thus:
Whose innocence was clearer than his own eyes:
Can you think how you have murder'd so much virtue,
And not blush yourself to death?
Eph. I think indeed I sent him general
Against the Argives; but—'twas his own desire.
Rin. 'Twas not his own desire, sir, to have
But thirteen thousand men, sir, was it?
Was that army fit to oppose great Argo?
There came a messenger just now, that saw
The prince not sixteen miles from hence
(For thither is the foe marched) draw up his men
T' engage the enemy.
Eph. For heav'n's sake,
Rinatus, post him back again, bid him retreat;
Command my son from me
Not to go on till greater forces follow him.
If it be possible, redeem the error;
I'd give my kingdom, life, or anything,
It were to do again.
Rin. I am glad to see this now;
Heav'n send it be n't too late!