Away, then, with those locks from off thy front—
Now, let me look! O, gods! ’tis she, tis she!
Pas. She faints, she faints! this shock is too afflicting
For such a shatter’d and disabled frame.
Fla. O! dearest, kindest, most beloved mother!
Edm. Indeed, my brain is something cooler now:
I should know you, sir, and you too; nay, all!
I’m very faint—alas! this joy o’ercomes me!
Fla. Sweet mother, you need rest; we’ll lead you in.
Edm. Then be it so; and wilt thou sit and watch me?