Speak, vassal! coward, speak! where is Rowena?
Off. Alas! I fear me, sir, she’s ta’en a prisoner.
Vor. Then all, indeed, is lost!—Thou sweetest death!
Bury but in this bosom thy fell dart,
And I will bless thee for the gentle deed.
Off. Shall I go forth, my lord, and man the walls?
Vor. Do as thou wilt.
Good friend, I’d speak with thee.
Off. What, sir, are your commands?
Vor. Thou art an old, and ever faithful servant.